Malfoy and Miller pt3
by infallible.ink
Summary: After a messy ending of the 5th year, Draco is pulled by his new Death Eater duty and his own morals. Brooke finds it harder to stay in control of her bottled up thoughts and both begin to see only one drastic way out. 3rd of a series. Corresponds with Half Blood Prince 6. Has not been updated yet
1. Gripping wrists

_I wanted you to know I love the way you laugh  
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away_

_I wanna hold you high and steal your pain_

_'Cause I'm broken when I'm open  
And I don't feel like I am strong enough  
'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome  
And I don't feel right when you're gone away_

**[Broken by Seether and Amy Lee]**_  
_

Malfoy and Miller: Half Blood Prince

* * *

From here, the clouds moved in sync. They moved ever so slowly, only enough if you stayed still and narrowed your eyes. Brooke filled her lungs with the summer air and breathed it back out. Her fingers wrapped around her left wrist, firmly. She lay on top of the metal monkey bars at a park within sight of her house. From the front window, her mother, washing the dinner dishes, caught the silhouette of her daughter, who used to swing across those monkey bars back and forth until she came back with such pink hands.

Finally the clouds moved, unsheathing the pearl colored moon to brush its soft light upon the grass blades. Then, in another instant, the grey clouds draped themselves back over and the street lights seemed to intensify. Brooke let her eyes close for a few moments and she pulled the ends of her sleeves over her fists. A warm tear fell sideways from the outside edge of her eye and in one clean motion, it was gone. She thought she would have been all dried up already.

On the monkey bars, she lay above, succumb to her thoughts. It had been three weeks since she came home from the Hogwarts train. Eventually, Caleb came back with Hermione's response after sending her a letter explaining exactly what happened in the courtyard and a little bit from the Hospital Wing and the lake toward the end of term.

Her response was quite Hermione-ish, telling her possible reasons and conclusions. Brooke must have answered the question as to why Draco broke up with her ten times a day, each the same words from his mouth and each a different spin on it. Still, they reverberated around her head no matter how much Brooke begged them to go away.

She opened her eyes to the slowly churning sky, unable to restrain herself from wondering where he was and what he was thinking. Perhaps he was staring at the same sky too or maybe he wasn't. Brooke wouldn't know. Not anymore, anyway.

Back at the window, her mother turned off the sink as she saw her daughter's silhouette sit up and in a tangle of limbs, land on her feet onto the woodchips.

"She still outside?" asked her husband from behind, grabbing a towel and a dish.

"Yes, I think she's about to come in, though," she replied.

"To think, that she battled right up against those Death Eaters," he grinned, holding his towel like a wand and swishing it around.

"I still think you should tell her," Brooke's mother said, turning around to face him.

He lowered his towel and grabbed another dish. "Eventually. But, look at her. Now's just not the right time."

"And what if you never get to tell her. You leave in a couple days. Last time I checked, getting over a boyfriend takes much longer than that."

"I _will_ get to tell her. I don't want her to get worried. I'll tell her after a while, alright? Like maybe around Christmas break," he kissed his wife on the cheek and put the last dish away.

The silhouette of the girl stuffed her hands in her pockets, took another glance at the sky and walked toward the house.

* * *

He could feel every part of himself shaking, but hoped it was glanced over in sight. They would call him coward or worse if they saw. Surely, the Dark Lord noticed how his arm shook and surely he would say something about it to the shadows crowded around them.

Reluctantly, but swiftly, he pulled back the sleeve and held his arm, palm facing up, stretched in front of him. The tall, swooping figure took a step closer and Draco Malfoy stiffened up his knees to keep them from giving way. The hooded man shook his ghostly white and unusually long fingers from the sleeve of his robes. Lord Voldemort held delicately onto his wand and pressed the tip onto his skin. Draco turned his head and shot his eyes downward as to not let him see the excruciating pain reveal itself on his face.

The ligaments and veins protruded from his skin as Draco dug his fingers into his palm holding in the reflex to scream. The burning and the sensation of small scalpels dancing on the thin skin on his forearm finally ceased.

His eyes looked up at Lord Voldemort, the cold gleam in his eyes flashing through the shadows of his hood. A smile enveloped onto the less than human face. It was a gentle smile, an almost caring smile, reassuring Draco's own choice, but there lay an underlying thought that lifted the goosebumps across his arms.

The shadowy figures dispersed along with their master. Lord Voldemort was his master now as well. Draco turned his back to them and lowered his head. He despised the evidence of weakness streaming down his face. His fingers wrapped around his left wrist, firmly, wishing to rip the Dark Mark off his own skin. 


	2. Departing and Arriving

_Here we stand alone  
Our goodbyes and our waiting  
Getting our fate to move  
Always the hardest part_

_We've traveled off from one another  
And we're trying to face the days a world apart_

_I tell you now I can't reveal the strength I need  
Climb all the mountains wishing you were here to see_

_That's what he said  
And all that I have to hold on to_

_Taken the shadows and replaced them with your face  
And you  
Have opened up a part of me  
Saying please don't leave me here  
When I'm a world's apart from you_

**[A World Apart by Vedera]**

* * *

Hermione and Brooke planned to go to the Burrow soon. Her father had also made plans to leave later in the week and appeared in front of the door with a spare number of carry alongs comprised of his wand, coat, and some galleons.

"But you never go on business trips. You're a Mediwizard," said Brooke from the stairs, watching her father put on his coat.

"Doesn't mean I can't go to St. Mungo's for an exchange program," he said. Her mother stood next to him, busing herself with unnecessary work of brushing off the shoulder of his clean coat. She didn't look happy to see him go, but pursed her lips. Brooke smiled, now knowing where she got that habit from.

After making sure his wand was in his inside coat pocket, he stood in front of the door facing Brooke.

"So, now that you're a sixth year, you can't give me a hug?" he smiled with is arms outstretched. Rolling her eyes, she quickly went down the stairs and embraced him.

"I know you can fight, but stay out of trouble," her father said, keeping her in a hug. "Good luck with your N.E.W.T.s and practicing your transfiguring. Oh, and don't let that boy get to you," he winked.

"Alright, dad. Have fun," she smiled, feeling her stomach turn. For one, she obviously let that boy get to her, however much she hated it. Another was her weakening Animagus skills. Lately, Brooke had been having more trouble changing into her tiger form, frustrating her, since it became natural to her towards the end of last term. Sometimes she would stand up after prowling around and realize she still carried a tail. Or the one time Brooke hadn't changed the entirety of her arm, feeling both tiger and human muscles cramped together, much like stiff and stinging tangled wires.

"Be safe," her mother said, hugging her father tightly.

"Love you both," he waved, walked out the door, and quickly apparated.

"Why didn't he just apparate from inside the house? Someone could've seen him," said Brooke.

"Well, I don't know," replied her mother, closing the door, "but I do remember hearing that you're leaving sometime too."

"Tomorrow, actually. Are you going to be alright over here with both of us gone?"

"Of course, of course. Your sister's coming to visit for summer."

Brooke felt a little bad for not being her when her sister comes, but she packed her bags and sent Caleb to Ron's house. The next afternoon, she said goodbye to her mother, climbed into the fireplace and disappeared in an eruption of green flames.

Coughing, she waved the smoke out of her eyes and saw a familiar maroon couch in the living room from two years ago. Steam drifted in puffs from the kitchen. Hurrying out of the fireplace, Brooke, grabbed her wand and ran in, thinking there was a fire. The kitchen lay perfectly fine, but being put to work by Mrs. Weasley, using her wand to peel potatoes, chop up carrots and to stir something in a large pot, emitting the steam.

Brook blinked her eyes, thinking it was a trick of the steam, but still saw a thin figure standing with her back turned and the odd blonde sight of a hair color other than bright red, flowing down to the girl's waist.

"Oh, Brooke! I didn't hear the fireplace go," Mrs. Weasley came over to hug her. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Thank you so much for letting me stay here again, Mrs. Weasley."

"I know you," the woman in the back turned around. "You are Brooke, no? 'Arry's friend?"

"Fleur?" said Brooke, wide-eyed to see such an unexpected guest at the Burrow.

She nodded and her light hair swished gracefully. "'ave you not 'eard? Bill and I are getting married!"

"Oh, congratulations!" exclaimed Brooke, never even knowing the two knew each other. Fleur smiled and went back to helping Mrs. Weasley cook dinner.

"It's always great to see you and how you're all growing up! Ron's already grown so high, I may need to lengthen the doors around here," Mrs. Weasely joked.

"It smells wonderful in here," she breathed in, still staring in surprise at Fleur.

"Why, thank you," Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Hermione's just arrived a few hours ago. They should be up in his room. The second door on the right when you go upstairs."

Putting her wand back in her pocket, Brooke went into the living room to gather her things and climbed up the stairs. Once she saw the Chudley Cannon's poster covering one of the doors, she didn't need Mrs. Weasley's directions.

She opened the door and saw Ron and Hermione sitting close to each other in mid conversation, looking out the window.

"Looks like Crookshanks got a bit of fur in your hair," said Ron, gingerly reaching on the top of Hermione's head.

"Oh, thanks," Hermione smiled. Ron looked rather pleased with himself, glancing at Hermione sideways.

"Should I have knocked first?" asked Brooke, beaming at the two.

"Brooke!" Hermione got up to hug her. "Your summer's been alright?"

"Yeah. But it looks like you two are having fun than I am," she smirked.

Both of her friends turned a shade pinker, giving Brooke an embarrassed glare. "So, how are you?" she said quickly, to rid the air of awkwardness.

"Been good," nodded Ron.

"Hey," said a voice behind her. Ginny walked out of her room and plopped herself on Ron's bed. "Knew you were coming soon, too. Caleb kept pecking at my window a while ago."

Right on cue, the ash colored owl flew into the room and landed Brooke's arm. "Smart owl," she pet him before he flew out the window. "How are you, Ginny?"

"Ugh. You haven't guessed? Did you see the ball of phlegm downstairs in the kitchen?" Ginny glared at the floor in the direction of where Fleur would be downstairs.

"Oh right, I didn't realize she and Bill were together?" asked Brooke.

"Yeah, well, he's teaching her 'Eenglish,'" she imitated Fleur's accent, while swishing her hair around.

"Aw, that's sweet."

"Maybe for the first two seconds. After that its eech," she acted out vomiting.

"Oh, she can't be that bad."

"I don't know," said Hermione, "I've only been here a few hours and I think I'm already getting annoyed of her."

"She's really not too bad," said Ron, waving away Hermione and Ginny's disgusted looks.

"Please, you only like her when she's prancing around, doing your laundry in something tight or low cut," said Ginny.

"I do not! _I don't_!" he said again, to Hermione's skeptical expression.

"Well, I'd much rather have Tonks in the family than Fleur," said Ginny.

"Although, she doesn't seem like she's herself, lately," said Hermione.

"What do you mean?" Brooke asked.

"She's very quiet and always looks like she's been crying her eyes out," she explained sympathetically. "She's even having trouble metamorphosing. That takes an emotional blow to interfere with that kind of magic ability."

Brooke fidgeted with the hair tie around her wrist. "You mean she can't change her appearance anymore?"

"I think she still can, but I think it's getting harder for her."

Not wanting them to worry about her or talk about her in the same tone as Tonks, Brooke kept quiet. She would hate to have them think of her as mentally unstable as she's starting to question it herself.

They spent the next day walking around outside the Burrow. The scenery was ten times more beautiful than in Brooke's city. Instead of business buildings, muggle banks and houses, the Weasleys were fortunate to be surrounded by the countryside. She, Hermione, Ron and Ginny wandered around the miniature forest a few minutes' walk away. The trees seemed to tower seven stories high and much less sinister than the ones in the Forbidden Forest.

After another hearty dinner of brisket, corn, potatoes and bread rolls courtesy of Mrs. Weasley, Brooke and Hermione hung in Ron's room. Once the moon was well up and into the night, they tiptoed back to Fred and George's room, vacant, as they were staying in a loft above their store in Diagon Alley. Brooke put her hair in a lazy pony tail and flung herself face down onto Fred's bed.

"All of these would seem bizarre if I didn't know any better," said Hermione, kneeling at her trunk from the other side of George's bed. She held up an Extendable Ear. They had random products all over the place and stacks of cardboard boxes filled with who knows what. Brooke smiled and turned herself over.

The bed sheets rustled next to her as Hermione climbed into bed and turned the lamp off. It must have been nearly midnight.

"Brooke," said Hermione somewhere on her right.

"Mm?"

"I've noticed…well, you haven't said anything about your letters. You know…about Draco?" she paused, waiting for Brooke to react. Received with only listening silence, Hermione continued. "You said you're alright about it?"

"Yes, Hermione," answered Brooke, as if having been asked for the fifteenth time.

"You're sure? To be honest, I hadn't expected it to be that fast, considering how serious you two were."

"M'positive," Brooke said. "There's nothing left to dwell upon. Sure, he said all those things the past two years, but it doesn't mean he meant them all. Could've been pretending, if you asked me."

The lamp turned on and Hermione's illuminated face popped in. Her eyebrows were raised.

"What?"

"Oh, Brooke," she shook her head slightly, "I don't think you're over him."

"I am too," defended Brooke, now sitting up. "We're done and we both know it. What's left to not be over?"

"He didn't say he wasn't in love with you anymore, though. Only that it was because of his father," Hermione implored against Brooke's will.

"Either way, it doesn't look like anything's going to happen. All I should be doing is moving on, right?" said Brooke, knowing it was exactly what Hermione would have told her anyway.

"Yes," she hesitantly accepted Brooke's persuasion, "as long as you're alright." With one last doubtful glance, Hermione turned the lamp off and pulled her sheets over herself.

Leaning back into bed, Brooke silently let out a breath. Again, she pushed him out of her mind, not wishing to think about him any longer.

* * *

**A/N: Hey everyone! Hope you're having a great start to 2010 and I'll be updating each week, hopefully with longer chapters. I just wanted to thank you guys again for continuing onto the 3rd story. :)**

**Please leave some feedback on what you thought about the chapter or even the story in general. I always appreciate it!**


	3. Unexpected Meeting

_Well I'm thinking of the worst things  
That I could say to you  
But a promise doesn't mean a thing anymore  
And this never will be right with me  
And now you're trying to desperately  
But I'm tongue tied and terrified of what I'll say_

_But I never told you everything  
I'm losing hope and fading dreams  
And every single memory along the way_

_And then we both go down together  
We may stay there forever  
I'll just try to get up  
And I'm sorry  
This wasn't easy  
When I asked you, believe me  
You never let go  
But I let go_

**[I'd Hate To Be You When People Find Out What This Song Is About by Mayday Parade]**

* * *

Her bed creaked up and down, accompanied by familiar laughter. "Wake up already," said Ron from a few feet away.

Groaning, Brooke pushed her hair behind her ears and saw a boy with messy black hair grinning after having launched himself on the bed.

"Harry! When did you get here?" exclaimed Brooke, now self conscious of what she looked like straight out of bed.

"Ow. Ron, you're on my arm," said Hermione's muffled voice.

"Oh, sorry, Hermione," Ron moved.

"That's alright," she said, sitting up with a small grin on her face "Did you just get here, Harry?"

"He got here last night!" Ron said. "I woke up this morning and saw him in one of the beds mum conjured up."

"And nearly knocked my brains out, waking me up," said Harry.

"Sorry, mate," smiled Ron sheepishly. "Thought you were a homeless burglar who snuck into my room."

"You're alright then?" asked Hermione, brushing her thick hair.

"Summer's been fine," answered Harry. "What about you guys?"

"Good," smiled Brooke.

"Tell 'em about Dumbledore," said Ron, who looked just about to burst to tell them the news himself.

"Dumbledore?" asked Hermione.

"It wasn't much. He wanted me to help get a teacher back from retirement- Slughorn, I think his name was," replied Harry, pulling himself up on the edge of Fred's bed.

"I'd been wondering who was going to replace Umbridge for Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione said.

"You must wonder that every year, seeing as the position's cursed," said Ron, darkly.

"Do you think Dumbledore's worried each time? I mean the last one knocked him out of his job, the previous- a Death Eater, then a fraud, then one with Voldemort on the back of his head," commented Brooke.

"I'm sure he's being much more careful now," said Hermione.

"He's giving me private lessons this year," said Harry, "Dumbledore, I mean."

The three of them gasped.

"Private lessons?" gaped Ron, with a slowly unfurling smile. "Maybe he'll teach you powerful jinxes and counter curses!"

"I suppose he might," said Hermione slowly, "I don't see what he would teach you. I wonder why he chose now of all times…"

Harry moved uncomfortably on the bed and pushed his glasses forward. "I think…it has something to do with the prophecy."

"The glass ball Neville broke?" recounted Brooke, "to what, figure out what it said or something?"

"No, Dumbledore witnessed the prediction himself and he showed it to me," said Harry, staring at the cardboard box at the foot of George's bed. "It said that Voldemort would mark his enemy, meaning me and that 'one cannot live, while the other survives.'"

At that he stopped, and looked up at the them.

"Oh, Harry," said Hermione, leaning closer towards him. "Aren't you scared?"

"Not anymore, no," said Harry, the muscles in his jaw twitching. "I think I've always known it was going to be down to me and him."

"We knew Dumbledore would be bringing you here and we suspected he would telling you something about the prophecy," said Ron, "Then you're right, the lessons are probably all about it. Dumbledore must think you've got a chance!"

"Of course he's got a chance," said Brooke. "If Dumbledore never had faith in Harry, he would've just left him at the muggles' doorstep."

"He might even teach you complicated potions and magical theories we might not even go over in classes!" Hermione's eyes widened at the possibilities and the numerous other books not in the Hogwarts library. Suddenly she gasped and clutched at Ron's hand, who flushed pink. "Our classes! Our O.W.L.s! When did McGonagall say they were coming?"

"Dumbledore said they would be coming soon…today I think," Harry's eyes grew wide as well.

Hermione squealed, threw off her bed sheets and ran downstairs. The three of them quickly followed her and found a head of thick brown hair peering through the window, anxiously.

"Don't be so worried, Hermione," said Ron, "You probably passed all eleven of your O.W.L.s."

"No, don't!" squeaked Hermione, flailing her arms. "I've failed everything, I know it! Mrs. Weasley, you're sure no owls came in yet?"

"I'm perfectly sure," replied Mrs. Weasley. "But they should be here in-"

A couple owls screeched nearby, causing Hermione to jump in place and bounce on her heels. Her fingers twisted around each other, ready to tear open the envelope. The specks of owls grew closer and Hermione retreated back to where Harry, Ron and Brooke stood.

"Oh, no," she moaned. "Oh, no, oh no! No!" The four owls flew in one by one and dropped off the four envelopes, a shining seal on each.

Hermione already made for hers when Brooke took a step towards the table. Brooke swallowed, repeating over to herself that it wouldn't be the end of the world if she hadn't gotten one 'Outstanding.' However, her reassuring chant, did not relax her fumbling fingers or the tension in her stomach.

Brooke opened the letter, but looked up at Harry, Ron and Hermione. Hermione had her back turned, Ron's head was downcast into his letter, and Harry's eyes sped through, side to side and up and down. Then, she looked back at her own grades.

**Ordinary Wizarding Level**

Pass Grades Fail Grades

Outstanding (O) Poor (P)

Exceeds Expectations (E) Dreadful (D)

Acceptable (A) Troll (T)

_Brooke Adele Miller has achieved:_

Arithmancy **O**

Astronomy **E**

Care of Magical Creatures **E**

Charms **O**

Defense Against the Dark Arts **O**

Divination **E**

Herbology **O**

History of Magic **A**

Potions **O**

Transfiguration **O**

Brooke stared in awe at the parchment. Nine O.W.L.s! She made a bet with her father that if she got more than seven, he would start teaching her how to animate large inanimate objects. The 'Acceptable' in History of Magic didn't strike her in surprise as it has always been one of her least interesting subjects. Divination, on the other hand, blew her away, expecting a 'Poor' or 'Acceptable'- but she had achieved an 'Exceeds Expectations.' She remembered analyzing the fog in the crystal ball the way she would point out the shapes in the clouds. It made her laugh, rereading the list.

"What? How'd you do?" asked Ron.

"Surprisingly well. And apparently 'Exceeds Expectations' in Divination," she handed him her letter.

"No way," he said, gaping. "That means you have to take it again this year!"

Brooke's smile fell the opposite way. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," Ron gave her back the letter, taking amusement in Brooke's sudden reaction. Another year of Divination meant another waste of a class on making up predictions. All the grade meant to her was that she was good at lying.

"You have to take Divination again?" Harry looked up.

"There must be some way to get out of it," pleaded Brooke.

"I guess if you beg," smiled Ron. He then, reached over and grabbed Harry's letter. "How'd you do, Harry?"

"Better than I expected."

"Hey, you got an 'Outstanding' in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Congrats! No surprise though. You practically taught the class last year."

Brooke smiled, then noticed Hermione still pawing through her grades, a finger gently resting on her lip.

"I'm sure Hermione did well, yes?" asked Brooke.

Hermione's head popped up, clearly distracted by her grades to notice what they were saying. "Hmm?"

"Did you do as well as you hoped?"

"Oh, erm, yeah," she said in a small voice, smiling. Ron walked over to her and glanced over her shoulder.

"Of course. All 'Outstanding' except Defense Against the Dark Arts, but that's still and 'Exceeds Expectations.'"

Hermione smiled.

"You're disappointed aren't you?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, finally being able to breathe normally.

Mrs. Weasley was ecstatic for all of them, especially Ron, who apparently beat out Fred and George's scores.

The book lists had came along with their score reports and Brooke wondered whether or not she should buy the Divination text book and see if she can weasel her way out of the class.

* * *

Hunched over in his room, Draco glanced up, only to check that his door was well shut and locked. He sat up and tilted his head up against the wall, his face screwed up. He hated it. Crying did not suit him well. It was a messy act with no purpose whatsoever, but only now where no one, and even himself couldn't see it, they escaped. In his hands, he clutched at the carpet, almost lifting the spots of it off the floor.

This was his mission. Depending on what happens in the end, it would be his first or his last. Draco pounded his fists against the carpet, feeling every muscle in his arm tighten. There was no way to avoid it. He could hardly believe he used to care about schoolwork, his reputation at Hogwarts or Quidditch. In reality, none of that mattered.

Numbers of O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s didn't matter in the real world, he thought bitterly, remembering his own frantic means of studying. It felt odd to receive his grades in the tidy Hogwarts envelope, momentarily forgetting all about it. They were better than he had expected, although fair for his father. Four 'Outstanding's, Draco recalled, one in Potions, Charms, Arithmancy and Transfiguration. Potions and Charms were a given; he worked damn hard studying components, meanwhile Charms was always a common sense memorizing subject. He never did outstanding in the other two, however, as he thought of it, they were the two classes Brooke studied heavily on.

The hollowness in his stomach intensified and he thought for a moment he might be sick. Draco stood up and walked a few brisk paces to the balcony for air. For a moment, he pictured himself dangling off its edge, three fingers from letting go.

* * *

Two days later, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Brooke were on their way to Diagon Alley. A familiar face greeted them at the Leaky Cauldron, equipped with the long beaver skinned coat and lurid pink umbrella. Hagrid was to accompany them as they shop, mostly for Harry's protection.

Diagon Alley had the color and life sucked out of it. The usually packed road with gossiping friends and families were now deserted with a chilly fog descended upon it. The silence filled the air like a dense liquid, save for the creaking of doors and shuffling feet. A few stores were run down and boarded up, including Olivander's and Florean Fortescue. The few groups of people who were shopping walked in tightly knit circles, no longer lingering around, but going about their business in the least time possible.

They decided to split up with Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who would go get the books, while the four headed to buy school robes with Hagrid.

The door twinkled as the three of them walked inside. Robes in red, shocking orange, yellow, striped and even star spangled adorned the racks. Across the room, a tall thin boy strode to the mirror and examined his deep green robes. Brooke immediately stopped walking, but felt a hand gently pushing her forward. She felt her lungs deflate and her shoes scratch the floor, trying hard to stay far away from the other side of the room. Unable to run out the door, Brooke stared at a rack of robes nearby.

"Ouch!" said the boy, slapping away Madam Malkin's arm, "Watch it!"

Draco carefully picked a stray thread off the front of his robes and looked up into the mirror. Four bodies stood behind him. He glanced at them for a second, then back down, clenching his fists and feeling his ears growing warm.

Almost unwillingly he opened his mouth, "If you're wondering what that smell is, mother, a mudblood just walked in."

In surprise, Brooke raised her eyes to stare at the reflection of his face. He had the same smirk as usual, but unlike what she had remembered. The grey in his eyes stood more profound against the bags underneath them, however, they were dimmed. Her stomach turned sickeningly.

Ron and Harry swiftly lifted their wands, while Brooke's hand twitched around hers, not sure what to do.

"There is no reason for such foul language in my store!" yelled a frizzy haired woman, busy with measuring tape and pins. "And no wands will be drawn as well!"

"Don't," said Hermione quietly when the two boys' arms hadn't moved. "It's alright. Just put them away."

"You wouldn't dare do magic out of school, now, would you, Potter?" said Draco, a small glint of a smile twitched around his mouth.

"I'm surprised you dared to step out into the open, with everyone knowing what a loser father you have to get himself into Azkaban," retaliated Harry.

Narcissa Malfoy stepped to be right in front of Harry, putting a delicate hand on Draco's shoulder.

"I'm sure I will be reunited with Lucius as I'm sure you will soon be reunited with Sirius," she said.

Harry lifted his wand even high, aligned with the crook of Narcissa Malfoy's nose. Simultaneously, Hermione and Brooke reached for Harry's arm as Draco pushed his mother aside to make way for himself to retort. He was now a foot or less away from her.

Having a grip on Harry's upper arm, Brooke pulled him back away from Draco.

"Don't you threaten my mother," he gritted his teeth.

Seeing Harry about to say something back, she tugged slightly on his jacket to shut him up. Perhaps Brooke thought too much of it, but being so close to Draco, she saw him take a glare at each Ron, Hermione, then Harry. An odd thought came to mind, wanting to shake him by the shoulders and make him look at her, just once, but he turned around.

"Mother, I don't want these anymore," he pulled off the robes and threw them at Madam Malkin's feet.

"You're right, Draco," said Narcissa Malfoy, holding her chin higher. "We'd best do at Twilfitt and Tattings, knowing what filth shops here."

Brooke realized she stood right in front of the door, and her feet didn't move, even as the two headed straight for her. Draco came first, squeezing between Brooke and a rack of robes, not taking a glance. For a moment, Brooke believed she might have been put under an invisibility charm, if it hadn't been for Narcissa Malfoy glaring at her before catching up with her son.

"Well!" exasperated Madam Malkin, picking up Draco's abandoned robes.

Hermione turned toward Brooke, but before she could say anything Brooke said clearly, "Hermione, I'm fine." Immediately afterwards, she realized how tense she sounded.

However, they proceeded to get fitted for their dress robes by the distracted Madam Malkin, who wanted to get rid of them as quick as possible.

Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley and Ginny each had a stack of books when they met with them on the street. Brooke reluctantly took hers with Divination the first on the stack. They made their way to the Apothecary, where Brooke knocked down a jar of powdered asphodels. Then, at Eeylops Owl Emporium, she was pecked ferociously by an owl, since she had accidentally leaned on its cage.

Brooke rubbed the back of her neck where the owl pecked her, very glad to leave.

"We'll go and check out Fred and George's store before we leave," said Mrs. Weasley.

Finding it was least of their worries as it stood like a single bright light in a dark room. Neon colors adorned the sign and décor in a bizarre fashion, yet still in harmony. Amidst the greys and worn down browns of the rest of Diagon Alley, it was clearly the best store to go to.

If the outside had not intrigued a customer, the inside surely did. Artifacts covered the shelves, including the entire finished set of Skiving Snackboxes. Indistinct shapes zoomed over their heads and the entire room was filled with whizzing and shrieking noises. Then, dressed in magenta robes, Fred and George came from behind them.

"How're you lovely customers," beamed Fred, sticking his arms out magnificently.

"You've really done well with the store," commented Brooke, staring at a pack of _Elated Mood Rings_.

"Why thank you," said George, patting a nearby shelf, "We like to call it our little prodigy."

The two then set off with Harry to the back room as she, Hermione and Ginny pawned through a variety of products. They found the patented daydreams the most interesting, coming up with instances of using it and what they would dream up. Ginny fawned over what looked like fuzzy pink and purple cotton balls.

Fred and Harry came back towards them. With Mrs. Weasley nearby, Ginny proceeded into persuading her into buying a one of the fluff balls, Fred said were Pygmy Puffs. Harry, then, poked her the arm and nodded outside. Draco was walking swiftly, not accompanied by his mother, however.

"Looks like he gave his mother the slip," said Ron, coming around behind them.

"Why, though?" asked Hermione.

Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak from his bag and threw it over himself and Ron.

"Get underneath," he whispered urgently to them. Hermione got under, somewhat reluctantly.

"Harry, is this really necessary?" asked Brooke through her teeth, not at all willing to follow Draco even by the small chance he was doing some sinister thing Harry suspected.

Not wanting to be caught by Mrs. Weasley or Hagrid, Harry said impatiently, "Alright, you don't have to come, I get it."

The cloak draped down and the three of her friends disappeared.

"Oh, don't be silly," she said, quickly grabbed the end of the cloak and crawled underneath. The space was less roomy than she remembered, now that Harry and Ron toward about a head above she and Hermione.

They silently exited out the door and past Hagrid.

"He was going this direction," breathed Harry, leading the three of them.

Soon, they spotted his platinum blonde hair turning into Knockturn Alley. Brooke pursed her lips, thinking it utterly stupid of him to even be seen going down that road nowadays.

Other people thought so too. Knockturn Alley was completely deserted, except for the weary shopkeepers, staring out their dust ridden windows.

"He's in there!" whispered Hermione, pointing at Borgin and Burkes. The store was lined with skulls, mysteriously bubbling potions and various necklaces and rings. Draco had their back facing them, obviously speaking, since his hands were moving about. Borgin stared, not in the way of a business man trying to sell, but looked upon Draco in confusion and fear.

"If only we could hear him," said Hermione.

"We can!" said Ron, pulling out a flesh colored string from and Extendable Ear. They slipped it to the bottom of the door and crowded their ears around the other end. Draco's voice suddenly became audible.

"…you know how to fix it?"

"Possibly," said Borgin, unsure of the consequences if he failed. "I'll need to see it, though. Bring it into the shop."

"I can't," said Draco. "It needs to stay put. Just tell me how to do it."

"Well, without seeing it, I cannot guarantee anything."

Draco grew frustrated and gulped. "Perhaps this will make you more convinced," he said, stepping towards Borgin and lifting his sleeve. The horrified look on Borgin's face told him the plan just might work. "Tell anyone and I'll find out. I'll have Fenrir Greyback checking time to time making sure your doing your job."

"There will be no need-"

"I'll decide that," he said sharply. If everyone had complied easily with him, it would make things ten times faster. "Just keep that one safe."

"Perhaps you'd like to take it now?"

"No, you insolent twit. How do you think I'd look walking down the street with that?"

"I see, I see," nodded Borgin.

"And one more thing," Draco remembered. His mouth moved, but Brooke didn't catch what he said.

"Ah, sorry," said Ron, picking up the end of the string off the floor and Draco's voice came on again.

"…you can switch those, right?"

"I have not tried, as I explained it was merely…experimental that particular product. It may weaken if you try."

"But it would still work just as well, even for unforgivables, and everything?" clarified Draco.

"Yes, yes. It should, but I cannot guarantee-"

Draco groaned, not wanting to hear anymore doubts.

"It better still work! Or I'll be remembering the man who made it if it fails," he said dangerously. Once more reminding, Borgin about his expectations, Draco walked out the door.

Brooke looked up at the rest of them. Suddenly it seemed Hermione thought of an idea.

"Talk to him. Try to find out what this is all about," she said to her, pushing her out of the cloak.

Out in the open, Brooke stared incredulously at invisible spot where her friends hid. Not receiving any response, Brooke pursed her lips and breathed out sharply.

She turned around and saw Draco was not to far along.

"Draco!" she called out to him, echoing in the streets. How she hated hearing the sound of her own voice. His steps slowed down for only a moment before gaining speed.

Brooke walked quickly to catch up, calling again, "Draco!"

They were only three feet away and she was sure he had to have heard her. Nonetheless, he made quite a good effort in making her feel invisible and soundless. He then squeezed between a large group of witches talking together, clashing through their small wall of shopping bags. They threw a contemptuous glance at Draco. Brooke had the inclination to apologize for him like a past habit, but was too stung from being ignored.

Warmth rushed into her cheeks. She abhorred the feeling, standing out in the open, dumbly, after having tried to gain someone's attention. The area stood silent with the few clusters of shoppers gliding like shadows along the bricks. Brooke turned around.

"Are you happy?" she said angrily, sure that the three closely followed behind her.

An arm appeared out of nowhere and threw her back underneath the cloak. For some reason her face grew even more warm once she saw them staring at her. She couldn't help but throw some of the blame upon Hermione for forcing her to talk about him, and now being openly rejected.

"I can't believe he didn't hear you," said Ron.

"Of course he heard me," said Brooke bitterly.

They walked back to Fred and George's shop in odd silence. Behind one of the shelves, they took the cloak off and made themselves known to a worried looking Mrs. Weasley and Hagrid.

"Oh, goodness," she put her hands on her hips. "We thought you had disappeared!"

"We were in the back," said Ron, convincingly.

"Well we better get going," she said, sparing them a lecture. They said a goodbye to Fred and George and climbed back into the car.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks for reading another chapter! & I know it was a lengthy one, so I'd love it if you could review like always and mention if the length was too much, just right, etc. Keep reviewing and there'll be an update sometime next week :)


	4. Parkinson's Revel

_We've tried so hard to understand, but we can't._

_It takes some time to let you go and it shows._

_Cause all we know is falling, it falls.  
Remember, cause I know that we won't forget at all._

_You never, you never said  
This wasn't what you wanted, was it? Was it?_

_This isn't what you wanted._

**[All We Know by Paramore]**

* * *

After getting ready for bed, Brooke went to Ron's room, where she last left Hermione, Harry and Ron. Once she opened the door, they hushed.

"Oh, hi, Brooke," said Hermione, trying to cover it up. As bright as she was, Hermione was terrible a terrible actress.

"Why don't we just tell her, she won't be mad- she might actually appreciate it," murmured Ron. Hermione threw him a warning glance.

"Tell me what?" she smiled, amused.

Despite Hermione's protest, Ron said, "Harry thinks Draco's a Death Eater."

Expecting a far different take on their Diagon Alley adventure, Brooke erupted with laughter.

"It makes sense," defended Harry. "Why else would he be going down Knockturn Alley? He didn't want Madam Malkin to roll up his sleeve and then, he showed something to Borgin that scared the wits out of him. It must have been the Dark Mark, right?"

"Harry, it could have been anything," said Hermione. "We were just telling him that Voldemort would never let someone as young as Draco be a Death Eater."

"But since when would Voldemort pass up a chance to get another follower?" Harry said.

"I'd have to agree with Hermione," said Brooke, still smiling. "A Death Eater? Don't you think that's a little far fetched?"

Harry gave up arguing it and they decided to call it a night. To Brooke's surprise, Hermione hadn't brought up anything else about Draco once they went back to Fred and George's room.

A few days before the end of break, she found herself alone with Harry. Hermione and Ron had been called down by Mrs. Weasley for their turn to help wash up after dinner.

Brooke lay face up across Ron's bed and sighed out of boredom. Harry was on the end, leaning on the bed posts.

"You haven't said much about Malfoy," he said, breaking the silence.

"You saw what happened," she said. "It's as if the boy charmed his ears to not hear me anymore."

Harry laughed. "I wouldn't be surprised if he did."

Brooke smiled.

"He flat out ignored me," she said, staring at the ceiling. "It wasn't even him not making an effort to say something, but flat out ignoring me, not insulting, not saying hi, not even bothering to look at me."

"Sounds like you want him to insult you," smirked Harry.

"Well, what's better, having him not acknowledge my existence or making a snotty remark I can hate him even more for."

"I wouldn't mind him ignoring me," said Harry.

"Course you would."

"Does this mean you still like him?" he asked, looking sideways at her. "Did I not make it clear the past couple days?"

Harry shrugged and changed the subject to Ginny's dislike of Fleur, which grew more pronounced and more funny each time the two were in the same room.

Sooner than they wanted, the Ministry car that took them to Diagon Alley, yet again waited for them, destined for the train station.

Brooke lugged down her trunk downstairs first, then Caleb. Not at all was she looking forward to term, especially now that she was the only one of the four taking Divination. Ginny had the luxury of having them advise her to take a different elective and had Hermione's fifth year Ancient Runes textbook.

Two Aurors dressed in Muggle suits, like the ones her mother got for her father for non magical parties, were waiting for them at King's Cross Station. They escorted a harassed looking Harry into the barrier. Brooke walked through herself after Hermione and saw the gleaming red train.

They thanked Mr. and Mrs. Weasley again and waved. Ron and Hermione made their way to the prefects' carriage to inspect the corridors.

She and Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express, searching for a compartment, however Brooke was subconsciously intent on leaving the looking for empty compartment up to Harry.

Fully prepared, although not being able to control the heat in her chest or tightening in her jaw, Brooke found herself right outside of Draco's compartment. He sat leisurely, yawning as he took up an entire side. One step further and she realized he was leaning rather comfortably upon Pansy Parkinson's shoulder. The pug face smirked to herself and kissed him on the cheek.

Brooke would not have been surprised if flames were erupting in her abdomen. In one quick move, she could singe the hair off of both of their heads. Suddenly her trunk jerked backwards, stuck in the doorway. She pulled on the handle furiously, half hoping the pack of Slytherins wouldn't hear the rattling from her fight with the luggage. One more sharp tug and it pulled free.

A compartment door slid open. Hesitant to look up, Brooke felt relieved, seeing Anthony Goldstein being pushed out by his cheering friends.

"Brooke!" he exclaimed almost breathlessly.

"Oh, hey Anthony," she smiled. He had gotten a little taller as well and let his dark hair grow out a bit past his ears.

"Are you looking for a carriage? Cause we have room in here if you wanted to sit with us," he threw a thumb behind him.

"I would, but I think Harry's just found one," she glanced at Harry and Neville gesturing at her.

"Oh yeah, of course," Anthony said, waving at the two.

"But I'll see you in classes," she picked up her trunk and Caleb's cage.

"Yeah, I'll talk to you later," he nodded. They stood awkwardly in the aisle for a couple moments, trying to find a way to get past the other. Brooke smiled at him as he closed the door.

"Hey Neville," she smiled, letting him get into the carriage and arrange his luggage first.

"Fancying Anthony Goldstein, now?" grinned Harry.

"I was only saying hi," she rolled her eyes.

"Hello, Brooke," said a dreamy voice. Luna smiled, however Brooke hardly noticed, as a colorful and bizarre set of glasses were perched upon her nose. "Hey, Luna," she smiled back. "How have you been?"

"Quite good. The Quibbler's getting great circulation!"

"That's good," said Brooke, fixing her and Harry's things.

The four of them had been in mid conversation about last year at the Ministry and Neville's new Cherry and unicorn hair wand, when a bunch of girls gathered outside of the carriage, giggling.

"I'm not going to ask him," whispered a cheerful, yet mortified looking girl, "you go!"

"No way," said another.

"I'll do it," said the most petite of them all. Her long black hair looked oddly familiar to Brooke, as did her loud voice. The girl pushed her way through and leaned upon the doorway.

"Hi, Harry," she said, her acrylic nails grasping the edge of the door and sticking her arse out beneath her pleated skirt. Brooke couldn't help snorting in laughter, but the girl hardly noticed, her intent solely upon Harry. She continued, "I'm Romilda, Romilda Vane."

Then, Brooke realized it was the same little girl who tried hexing her in her fourth year after Rita Skeeter's article got published. Only now it seemed she hit a growth spurt in the past two years.

"Erm, hi," said a confused Harry, far from being enticed.

"You can sit with us if you'd like. You don't have to sit with them," she whispered, lamely trying to conceal her pointing. Brooke raised her eyebrows, taking amusement in her failing flirtation.

"They're friends of mine," said Harry coldly. "Oh," she looked surprised, "Oh, okay."

She took a step back and closed the sliding door.

"And that is one lovely polite girl, no?" Brooke smirked.

"We're sorry, Harry," murmured Neville, "It must be hard not sitting with cooler people than us." "You are cool," said Harry. "No matter what anyone says. They weren't there with me at the Ministry. They didn't fight the Death Eaters."

"Why thank you," said Luna, even behind the grand, odd Spectraspecs, gave him a warm smile.

They proceeded into a conversation about their O.W.L.s and Neville, who wished to take Transfiguration, but only received an 'Acceptable.' Brooke felt disappointed, not much to Neville, but thought that maybe she could have tutored him a bit harder or at least referred him to take extra practice with Professor McGonagall.

To Brooke's discontent, neither Luna or Neville were taking Divination either. It left her to wonder exactly how many students were going to be in that class anyway.

Ron and Hermione soon came into the carriage and Brooke was sorely reminded of Draco coming in behind them last year; Ron closed the door behind him.

"Hi Neville. Hi Luna," said Ron, sitting lazily down. "Guess what? Malfoy's not doing prefect duty anymore."

Not sure if she was supposed to respond to this or not, Brooke nodded her head in acknowledgement. Hermione took a small glance at Ron, almost in fear of something.

"Oh and we passed by his carriage- full of Slytherins," Ron continued, not aware of Hermione's expression. "He was snogging Parkinson. They make a disgusting couple."

Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

"Ow! I said disgusting!"

Ignoring his justification, Hermione set her stare upon Brooke, waiting for her to react, but was received with nothing she expected.

"They are quite perfect for each other, aren't they?" said Brooke lightly, neither smiling or leaving a hint of sarcasm. Not even she knew what she meant by the remark, but let it waver in the air for a moment before Hermione changed the subject by asking Luna about her glasses.

A student with dusty blonde hair knocked on their carriage, carrying what looked like two shiny postcards for Harry and Neville.

"It's an invitation to Slughorn's carriage," said Harry, gazing at the lofty preprinted signature at the bottom.

"Who's Slughorn?" asked Neville, utterly perplexed.

"New teacher," replied Harry, "Seems like we should go, though."

"What does he want me in there for?"

"No idea," said Harry, who then got up, carrying one of his smaller bags and left with Neville. A few moments later, she recognized Anthony's smile and waved back at him, mouthing out the words asking where he was off to. He looked pleasantly confused, so she opened the sliding door.

"I said 'where are you going,'" she asked cheerfully.

"Oh, I got this," he pulled out the same invitation from Slughorn out of his pocket. "I guess it's a meeting or something?"

"You got one too?"

"Yeah, are you going?" he asked hopefully, not wanting to be there alone. She said no, but reassured him that Harry and Neville were on their way over there.

Once he headed in the same direction as Harry and Neville, she closed the door and rested back down.

"Since when did you start talking to Anthony Goldstein," asked Ron.

Brooke shrugged, "Dunno, he was in the D.A. wasn't he?"

"Oh, that's right," said Ron, who leaned his head on the end of the door and closed his eyes.

"He's very smart," said Luna from behind her magazine. "Always studying in the Ravenclaw common room."

"Sounds like Hermione's perfect match," smiled Brooke, more aimed at Ron than Hermione. Right on cue, he opened his eyes.

"Who? Goldstein?" he asked. "No, they're idea of a date would be swapping notes or reading textbook excerpts."

"Why, thank you, Ron," said Hermione tartly, unable to suppress tiny bit of her pulling up on the edges of her mouth. Then, her expression changed and Brooke saw her stare through the corner of her eye. "You're not mad at me are you?"

"Is there a reason to be mad at you?" Brooke looked at her surprised.

"For forcing you to go after Draco at Diagon Alley," she clarified.

"No, of course not," said Brooke, although initially placing blame on Hermione, she reasoned it was not entirely her fault. "We wanted to know what he was up to, so," she trailed off, shrugging.

Hermione nodded, a burden lifted off her shoulders. At this moment, did Brooke notice her fortune to have such a friend caring that much about their level of terms.

Once the train slowed to a creaking stop, a sigh escaped her lips, not thinking the best of the upcoming year. Although complaining to herself, it was unthinkable to simply sit on the train and wait until it was back at King's Cross Station. They figured Harry, who Neville said disappeared after Blaise Zambini, had gone off to follow Malfoy the rest of the night.

Climbing into one of the carriages, Brooke struggled to keep to herself from rolling her eyes, as Pansy Parkinson laughed obnoxiously loud from the carriage in front of them. She had her arm draped over Draco, tilted her chin and cackled. "Oh, Draco, you're _so_ funny!"

It would not have antagonized her so much, if Parkinson hadn't taken a derisive glance at her on the way down to perch her head on his shoulder. Brooke imagined herself taking off in full speed out of the carriage on four paws, then pouncing the sickly girl out of her seat, thrashing her viciously. Along with the mischievous smile upon Brooke's face, came the nagging tug at her insides reminding her of her own promise to practice transforming. Recalling the tight, dull pain in her forearm often came to mind every time she decided to practice. It had been perhaps a month since she turn a full tiger. Although now she remembered trying to change her hands in feet into paws. Successful the first two tries, but the third came the splitting pain of tiger nails and the thinness of human skin.

A sudden stop of the carriage interrupted her running thoughts. They stood at the front of Hogwarts when Hermione brought up an alarming point.

"Where's Harry?" she asked, trying to peer above the students' heads. Ron, who was much taller than either of them, glanced around.

"Don't see him anywhere," he said.

"He would've tried looking for us at the carriages," said Hermione, sounding worried.

"Maybe we've missed him and he's already sitting down inside," said Ron.

"Maybe," said Hermione, still looking around.

The last of the crowd of returning students proceeded their way and the three of them decided he must be in the castle by now. Hermione was not at all pleased in entering the Great Hall only to find the Gryffindor table lacking their friend. Upon debating whether or not they should sneak out, the doors opened with McGonagall leading the first years, half of them excited, while the other half looked terribly frightened.

The three were forced to stay sitting down at the table as the sorting hat was placed on each of the new students. Brooke hardly paid much attention, and neither had Ron or Hermione she noticed. Ron, who kept tapping his fingers on the table either in anxiety or hunger, more probably the latter. Hermione had been glancing constantly at the door as if waiting for the perfect time to grab the two and slip out.

Soon, the piles of chicken legs, bows of chips, mashed potatoes, vegetables and other foods appeared down the table.

"Where could he possibly be?" said Hermione.

"Dunno," said Ron. He looked towards the door, already having his mouth full and a bitten off chicken leg in his hand.

Brooke searched the room. "He can't be in any sort of trouble with a teacher, they're all here, well, except Snape."

"Snape?" said Hermione, alarmed. Brooke normally would have no trouble listening to Hermione thinking out loud, but her ears constantly caught the screeches, she already knew were Pansy Parkinson without turning to look.

Brooke merely caught "wonder," "trouble," and "danger" from Hermione's voice. All the rest she heard were Pansy's undying compliments to what seemed like every slight action of Draco. She loved his humor, she loved the exact same foods as he did, she loved the way his hair was styled out of the way of his eyes.

"Oh, and your eyes!" Pansy exclaimed. "Especially in this light, the gray in them glitter. I don't know a single person who has that exact shade. I'll bet they look even more marvelous in the moonlight by the lake!"

All the effort to restrain strangling Pansy vanished and Brooke couldn't take it anymore.

"We get it Parkinson, you're obsessed with him! Now will you _shut up_!" she shouted at her. Immediately afterwards, Brooke was thankful the other students were so chatty. Only a couple people surrounding them noticed.

Pansy's expression was neither appalled or pouty, but Brooke would have been happier with those reactions. Instead, Pansy had a more than satisfied look on her face- the kind where she finally received the reaction she wanted. Brooke thought herself a fool for letting Pansy get the better of her, but it was a side thought to the still residing anger pounding in her head.

"Oooooh, I think I've touched a nerve," she smirked. "Can't handle it, huh, Miller?"

"Yes, in fact, my eardrums simply do not have the capacity to withstand the shrieking frequency of your voice," said Brooke, sharply. More than willing to continue arguing with Pansy, Brooke turned around back to her own table. Although Pansy was having a field day with Brooke's reaction, Draco had been stabbing his chicken, trying to get the fork in the precise spot.

Again, her cheeks grew warm underneath her friends' gazes. Brooke went straight back to eating to wave away what just happened, but it was no use.

"What?" she asked innocently. Seamus, Dean, and Neville, who were sitting across from her were staring too.

Ron snorted with laughter, which Brooke was thankful for.

"Hopefully that shut her up," he said, taking another bit of chicken.

The door opened again with Harry quickly heading towards them. Hermione breathed, not with a sigh of relief, but rather a gasp. Brooke saw why. His face was covered in blood.

The clanking of utensils and conversations died down a little until he sat down in between Brooke and Ron.

"What the bloody hell happened to your face?" asked Ron.

"What? What's wrong with my face?" said Harry, grabbing a spoon to examine himself.

"Harry, you're covered in blood!" whispered Hermione, not sure why, since it was no secret to the rest of the students who saw him come in.

"Oh, right," said Harry. "My nose look alright?"

"Your nose?" asked Brooke. It was a random concern of his to be worried about the state of his nose instead of explaining why he was nearly half an hour late.

"I'll explain later," he said lowly.

"But-"

"Later," he said again.

"Hold on," said Hermione, "_Tergeo_!" She pointed at his face and the blood wiped off. Just as Harry reached over to grab a bread roll, it vanished and the bowl was replaced with a tray of treacle tart, which he pleasantly made for.

Midway into the desserts, Dumbledore stood up and welcomed them back to Hogwarts. What was more alarming than the shriveled black looking appendage attached to Dumbledore's arm, was his announcement of Professor Slughorn taking the position of Potions, while Snape took on Defense Against The Dark Arts. No doubt did the entire Hall erupt in murmurs and whispers, except Harry, who, instead, shouted in horrified surprise.

"Harry, you said that Slughorn was going to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts!" said Hermione.

Harry still gaped up at the staff table. Snape was unaffected by this reaction with a subtle smug expression to show his satisfaction of finally receiving the position he greatly desired. Gradually, the attention was placed back onto Dumbledore as he finished up his annual speech and soon, they were dismissed.

Hermione ran off to gather the first years, without another word. Brooke stared at Ron, wondering why he wasn't going as well.

"What really happened to your nose?" he asked Harry.

Harry explained his hiding in Draco's compartment, eavesdropping on their conversation. Once the train stopped, and they emptied out, Draco stayed behind, immobilized Harry underneath the Invisibility Cloak and broke his nose. Ron looked grim, while Brooke's mouth opened slightly. Despite her multiple tries to make Draco seem like his old self, she couldn't even picture that version of him doing something so low.

"But, look," said Harry, leaning closer towards them, "Listen to what he was saying before he found out I was there. He said he might not be at Hogwarts next year and that he'd be 'moving onto bigger and better things.'"

"Harry that could mean any-"

"And he even mentioned Voldemort taking over and he won't care about grades, but devotion," continued Harry.

"That does sound suspicious, but don't you think he was only showing off for Parkinson?" said, to Harry's surprise, not Brooke, but Ron.

The next morning, Hermione thought the same, when Harry repeated his story.

"Although," she added, "that does seem like a big lie to tell."

"Exactly," said Harry, enthusiastically. "So he must be up to something."

"Well, I wouldn't say that," said Hermione, to an exasperated Harry. "We shouldn't jump to conclusions."

Defeated again, Harry sighed and they left to the Great Hall for breakfast.

* * *

**A/N: I decided to post a chapter earlier than I though, so there it was :) Again, thanks so much to you guys who are reading and a special thanks to those reviewing ;) Keep telling me what you think, what you liked, don't like etc.**


	5. Divination Predictions

_Before I fall, too fast  
Kiss me quick  
But make it last  
So I can see how badly this will hurt me_

_Keep it sweet, keep it slow  
Let the future pass, and don't let go  
But tonight I could fall to soon  
Under this beautiful moonlight_

_But you're so hypnotizing  
You've got me laughing while I sing  
You've got me smiling in my sleep  
And I can see this unraveling  
And your love is where I'm falling  
But please don't catch me_

_So now you see why I'm scared  
I can't open up my heart without a care_

_I can't set my hopes to high  
Cause every hello ends with a goodbye_

**[Catch Me by Demi Lovato]**

* * *

McGonagall was going down the line of Gryffindor sixth years in order to set their schedules. Harry and Ron mentioned their concern for Hagrid, and his reaction to neither of the four taking his class this year. Brooke hadn't considered Care of Magical Creatures, but was willing to trade Divination for it. However, McGonagall said she needed to take at least one of her previous electives, either Divination or Ancient Runes. Immediately, Brooke agreed to Ancient Runes, only to be told that the class was full.

Groaning, Brooke stood up to leave for her first period Divination class, with her luck pushed even lower, having the class taught by Trelawny rather than Firenze.

"Hey, what class are you off to?" asked Anthony Goldstein, leaving the Great Hall at the same time.

"Divination," replied Brooke, with a look of disgust.

"Well, we're in the same class," he smiled.

"Really? Thank goodness!" said Brook, relieved that she didn't need to suffer the class completely alone. "I was beginning to think I would have to be with Parvati and Lavender the entire time."

They went up the stairs to Trelawny's tower, exchanging quick snapshots of their entire summer. Lines of delicate smoke spiraled from the room, smelling heavily of perfume. Students filled only half of the number of tables around the room. She took a seat at an empty table nearby the door.

"Aren't you going to sit with your friends?" she asked as he sat down next to her.

"And leave you to have all the fun by yourself?" he joked, taking a glance at his friends. "They probably would have kicked me out of the table if I tried."

"Why?" asked Brooke, taking out her heavy textbook.

He mumbled something in reply, then, smiled back at her. A rustle of beads and the staggering walk of the teacher cued the students to be quiet.

It would have been a torture to sit through the first lesson, if it hadn't been for Anthony making jokes at Trelawny's exaggerated predictions and drunken movements.

She waved goodbye to him as he set off for Transfiguration, but she would soon meet up with him in Potions and Astronomy later in the day. Stepping into the Defense Against the Dark Arts for the first time, already presented itself to have the same anxiety as for an exam.

No doubt it had been an odd sight to see Snape speaking about the dark arts. Harry kept muttering under his breath to comment on everything that came out of the solemn professor's mouth. Thankfully, his kept his talk short and split them into twos to practice nonverbal spells. Hermione, to no one's surprise, got the hang of it by the end of class. Brooke ended up taking each of her jinxes and charms, while she only managed to make Hermione's hair waver a centimeter or so.

"Can you believe him? He talks about the Dark Arts like it's one of his beloved hobbies," criticized Harry, walking out of the class.

"I don't know," said Hermione, "He kind of sounded like you."

Harry said nothing, but looked at her incredulously.

"I mean," she added quickly, "he kept talking about how facing this stuff isn't about memorizing spells, but relying on skill."

Having nothing to say back, they walked on towards Potions. Harry and Ron explained the switch of professors meant they were eligible to take the class and only needed to borrow textbooks and order a couple ingredients.

Only half the number of students from last year's Potions made it through to the N.E.W.T. level. Three Ravenclaws, including Anthony, one Hufflepuff, and four Slytherins, which unfortunately, Brooke found one to be Draco.

The classroom reminded Brooke of Divination with the fumes dancing around, but much more tolerable. She breathed in. It was more than tolerable. They took a table nearest a golden cauldron. She breathed in. If she could, she would spend all her time in here, inhaling and exhaling. The scent filled her lungs and relaxed every muscle. It rang back the fresh smell of the lake, something she hadn't recognized since last term.

Another breath and something seemed different. It smelled like cool fruit, straight after cutting them for dinner and placed on the deep red tablecloth at home. For a few moments, Brooke thought she couldn't get enough of it. She breathed in again, but her lazy smile dropped. There was another scent lingering around the room. It was a mix in itself and hardly any words came to mind to describe it; all except two names, both belonging to the boy a few seats away.

Of course, her feeble attempt in holding her breath was shortlived. Brooke felt a wave of uneasiness as she gulped in the air. It was a guilty pleasure to breathe it in deep, but at the same time she reacted quickly with the dulling pain in behind her eyes and in her sinuses.

"I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made them yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?" asked Professor Slughorn, standing in front of a clear bubbling potion, straight in front of Anthony.

"It's Veritaserum, which forces the drinker to tell the truth," said Hermione automatically with her hand in the air.

"Very good, very good," bounced Slughorn on his way to the next cauldron next to a stony faced Draco. "Now, this one is very well known-"

"Polyjuice Potion, sir," said Hermione, once again.

"Excellent! And this one, here?" asked Slughorn, looking up at Hermione expectedly, who did not fail him.

"It's Amortencia!" Hermione said, then looked back into the cauldron on their table. "It's the most powerful love potion in the world. It's characterized by the spirals and it's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us. For example, I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and-"

She stopped suddenly, turning pink. Everyone but Slughorn seemed to notice, but it soon waved away as Slughorn spoke again about Amortencia.

"Sir, you haven't explained that one," said Ernie, pointing at a gold potion in a black cauldron right on Slughorn's desk.

"Ah," he said, slowly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "That one, is Felix Felicis."

"Liquid luck!" gasped Hermione.

"Yes! Liquid luck. It gives the drinker an indescribable sense of optimism and confidence and will make one ordinary day extraordinary!" explained Slughorn, happily acknowledging Hermione's astonishment.

"Once you drink the potion, anything you want will happen?" asked Draco, sitting up.

"No- well, not necessarily. Perhaps, it may happen, but you have no control of it. That shouldn't discourage the potion, but the surprise in it makes it ten times better!"

"Why don't people drink it all the time?" asked Terry Boot.

"It causes extreme giddiness and recklessness if taken in excess, however, if taken sparingly, it will make some of the best days and memories," Slughorn said happily. "And that is what will be the prize for today. A small bottle- about twelve hours' luck is what the person who makes the best Draught of the Living Death potion by the end of class."

Immediately, they took out their books and began working as fast as they could. Brooke could do with a nice, lucky twelve hours, especially since all her luck seemed to have ran out.

After she added the sopophorous bean juice, Brooke accepted defeat. She looked up and saw Draco bent down close to his potion, plopping in the ingredients and hurriedly stirring. Hermione had the same determination, crouching over an already lilac potion. It would take a miracle to beat these two at the potion. Brooke began to leisurely add the roots and stir the potion.

Harry's potion, which was as purple as Brooke's, turned a shade lighter than Hermione's in a matter of seconds.

"How're you doing that?" asked Hermione, edgily.

"It says to add a counter-clockwise stir-" he pointed at the dark scribbled writing in the margin of his textbook.

"No, the book said clockwise!" interrupted Hermione, working feverishly over her potion.

Right before the bell, Slughorn stopped them all and walked around their cauldrons. Ron's had turned into a potion resembling melting black licorice. Hermione's looked just about done. Then, he passed by to Harry's clear liquid potion, just the right color.

"Oho!" he exclaimed. "We have a clear winner! You have inherited your mother's skill. She was one of the best potion students I've ever taught and this potion is simply perfect! Congratulations!" He took out a tiny bottle of Felix Felicis and handed it to Harry.

Once the bell rang, Brooke quickly packed up her things and waited outside for the others. A head of blonde walked out first, heading in the other direction without a turning glance.

"…wonder why she got out so fast. Reckon she didn't want to be in the same class as," Ron's voice carried as they grew closer. He trailed off once he saw Brooke, amused.

"Same class as who, Ron?" she asked with a smirk.

Hermione took this small pause to interject and corner Harry about his potion.

"Why did you add a counterclockwise stir?" she asked, innocently.

Harry glanced around swiftly, as if hiding something mischievous. He reached into his book bag and pulled out a tattered Potions book. "Look, there's notes like that everywhere in the book."

Harry flipped through the pages and almost on every inch was a note, circled word or underlined phrase in black slanted handwriting.

"Blimey, then, at this rate, you could even beat Hermione at Potions," chuckled Ron.

"It's not a matter of who Harry can beat," said Hermione scornfully, "but following instructions from an anonymous writer in a book? That's not quite smart, is it?" She climbed into the portrait hole.

"Just admit that you're jealous that maybe you might not be the best in a subject," said Ron, following her.

"I'm not jealous!" she swiftly turned around, making her hair fly.

Harry flipped the book to the very first page, catching she and Ron's attention. Scribbled along the bottom was "Property of the Half Blood Prince."

Later in the evening, Hermione sat down on her bed and opened up her Potions textbook, thumbing through the chapter.

"I really enjoyed Slughorn's lesson today, well, it was more like a review, but it seems like it'll be an interesting class," she said earnestly.

"Yeah," said Brooke, getting ready for bed. "Oh, hey, what was the thing you smelled from the Amortencia? You flushed."

Hermione turned pink just as she had done in the classroom. "No, it was nothing," she shook her head.

"Come on, I'll tell you mine."

"You'll laugh at me," she looked up from the book.

"You know I wouldn't," said Brooke, more curious. Hermione let out a breath and groaned. "It can't be that bad."

"Alright, alright," she gave in. "It was…Ron's hair," Hermione whispered the last two words, looking sheepishly.

Brooke fought the temptation to burst out laughing, not to ridicule her, but in hopes the two would finally realize the others' feelings.

"But it could have been the shampoo he uses. I think I borrowed it when we were staying over at the Burrow," Hermione quickly explained. "So, that could relate to the Burrow and its homey feeling or the Weasleys, in general, since they're basically our second family, right?"

"Has any other reason happen to come across your mind?" grinned Brooke.

"He's one of my best friends, that's all. And I'm sure Harry probably uses the same shampoo, so," she trailed off.

Brooke decided not to push it any further.

"Anyway, that was mine. What about yours?" Hermione asked, glad to have changed the focus away from her.

"Well, first thing was the lake, then fruit, and then," Brooke paused, unsure how to word it, so it didn't sound as sickening. "I'm not sure how to describe the last one. Erm, it was Draco- the smell of his robes, I think."

She waited for Hermione to say something, but she only stared at her sadly.

"It sounds weird, I know, but it just smelled like him. It was so clear, since the potion was sitting straight in front of us. It was almost like I was back at the lake, curled up right next to him," she paused, afraid to speak any further.

Brooke couldn't stop herself from saying all of it out loud. She missed every bit of him, even when he made her the angriest, but that was where she drew the line. Never had those words surpassed her lips and for what seemed like ages, her hands have been cold.

"But," she regained her composure, "now everything's fine."

"Brooke," Hermione looked at her with apprehension. "You can't hold it in all the time."

"What are you talking about? I told you, I'm okay," she reassured her.

"You keep saying that, but-"

"Hermione, I don't know what else to say. I guess I'm working on it, it's not gradual," explained Brooke, suddenly wishing to be warmly in her bed sheets. Hermione gave up wrenching Brooke to talk and went back to turning the pages in her book.

Harry began using the written down shortcuts all the time, much to Hermione and Ron's annoyance. Ron was only secretly peeved that he was close to getting that particular book and would have done just as well in Potions. The only thing worrying Brooke, however, was not schoolwork, but her own peculiar behavior.

More than once did she find herself sitting quietly in the common room late at night, long after everyone finished up their homework. Drawing hardly appealed to her, or the few times she did try, the paper ended up crumpled in the trash bin.

On a pleasanter note, she found herself spending a lot of time with Anthony, mostly in Divination and Astronomy, which neither Harry, Ron or Hermione took.

One morning in Divination, they sat staring at the crystal ball for the third time that week, describing things in the room instead of predictions.

"I see," said Brooke, "a distressed old bat, hunched in a chair, clutching a bottle she claims is only pumpkin juice."

Anthony laughed, taking a glance at Professor Trelawny.

"That's easy. My turn," Anthony said, peering into the cloudy ball, "I see someone even more bored than we are."

Brooke peered to the left of Anthony's shoulder and saw Terry Boot and Michael Corner slouched in their chairs, fast asleep.

"Seems like they've found a productive way to use the time," she said.

"We're being productive!" laughed Anthony.

Brooke smiled, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, see look. I think I can predict something. Hm," he took a hold of the crystal ball and looked into it closely. "I see, a girl, sitting down. She's not alone. Oooh, she's with a boy," he said in a voice reminding her of Parvati and Lavender. "He's devilishly handsome with his lush dark locks."

At this point Brooke laughed, realizing who he was describing.

"Mm…the boy's saying something- asking her something, actually. He's asking if she wanted to go to Hogsmeade later. Oh, and she's looking very happy, nodding, it looks like," he smiled.

"Devilishly handsome, you say? I don't think I know anyone like that," she joked.

"I think I could point out a couple of them in this room," he narrowed his eyes, scanning the room with a pointed finger. "Ah, there's one right here!" he pointed at himself.

Brooke laughed and agreed to go with him. They continued to ignore the assignment and instead, talk about the coming Hogsmeade weekend. Gradually, Brooke's mood improved; she chatted more in conversations and took Harry's consistent mention of Draco much better. Before, she would try to tune him out. Hermione and Ron didn't seem to take much interest in Harry's theories either, making his comments brief.

Hermione had been delighted at hearing Anthony asking Brooke to go to Hogsmeade.

"That's wonderful! I knew he fancied you, with the way you both go around talking to each other," she smiled, walking into their dormitory and hanging her scarf on her bed post. "I can't believe you hadn't even mentioned you liking him until now!"

"I never said that I did," said Brooke, closing the door behind. "We haven't even been on a date, Hermione." "Doesn't mean you still can't like him," she sat on her bed and crossed her legs.

"Don't get me wrong, he's a great guy. I just don't know if I like him more than a friend yet, you know?"

"But you're excited, aren't you?"

"Of course I am," she replied truthfully. Brooke figured the real reason why Hermione was so happy for her was that she would finally forget about Draco. Secretly, Brooke wanted to prove that reason to him, too.

* * *

**A/N: I know its pretty short compared to the last two, but I promise to not go below 4 pages :) Please review! I would love your thoughts on how the relationships and the plot are developing.**


	6. Angels Cry

_Well it's hard to explain but I'll try if you let me  
Well it's hard to sustain  
I'll cry if you let me_

_Can't you see I'm dying here?  
A shot of broken heart that is chased with fear_

_Intentions that were pure have turned obscure_

_My heart burns through  
My chest to the floor  
Tearing me silently although abruptly_

_Angels cry when stars collide  
I can't eat and I can't breathe  
I wouldn't want it any other way_

**[Angels Cry by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus]**

* * *

More often than before, Brooke spent time in the library with Anthony, usually before their Astronomy classes. They needed all the study time they could get now that almost every class required nonverbal spells. She couldn't figure out whether Charms or Transfiguration had been the hardest to keep up with, since they learned a new spell frequently in Charms, but the difficulty wasn't nearly as hard as the spells in Transfiguration.

In her spare time, Brooke concentrated on pencils and turned them into feathers or made pieces of parchment into flying paper rockets. She would help Harry during their free periods to practice any new spells or homework assignments. He had a bit more on his schedule with Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts coming up soon, so she didn't mind.

In the morning, she and Hermione accompanied Harry and Ron out to the field after breakfast. The front rows of the stands were covered in hopeful tryouts, some not even in Gryffindor or some first years Brooke would have been surprised if it hadn't been their first time on a broom.

Last of the positions to be filled were the Keepers. Hermione clutched onto the edge of her seat, leaning forward.

"Good luck Ron!"

Surprisingly, it wasn't Hermione, but Lavender Brown a few bleachers behind them, giggling with Parvati. Cautiously, Brooke looked at Hermione. Her face held something mixed between anger and disappointment. Something told her that Hermione had wished she had not hesitated in yelling a good luck herself.

In line before Ron was a burly seventh year named Cormac McLaggen, who made Ron appear short. McLaggen flew up swiftly to the goal posts, saving one, two, three and four goals. Brooke swore she saw him glance over at Hermione with a proud and determined expression.

"I think he fancies you," said Brooke.

Hermione groaned in disgust and revealed her wand hidden in her sleeve. It flicked and the crowd burst out laughing. McLaggen had flown in the opposite direction, completely missing the Quaffle and letting Ginny score.

Brooke gaped at Hermione. "What did you do?"

"Hm?" she tried to hide the mischievous smile enveloping on her face.

"Did you just confund him?" she blinked.

"Wha-" Hermione scoffed, shaking her head "No."

"I didn't know you had it in you," smirked Brooke.

"I- Well, Harry wouldn't do well with a sore loser like him, anyway," said Hermione, nodding to McLaggen, storming to the benches angrily meanwhile pushing a few first years out of his way.

Ron positioned himself in front of the goals and gulped. Ginny flew and aimed one to the farthest right. He reacted quickly and although a little awkwardly, saved it. And he saved the second, third, fourth and during Ginny's fifth aim, Hermione had her knuckles pressed against her mouth.

Ginny swerved and threw the Quaffle, only to have it whacked in the opposite direction from the back of Ron's broom. A little pink in the face, Ron flew down to the field as Brooke and Hermione made their way toward him.

"Well done, Ron!" congratulated Hermione.

"Thanks!" said Ron, taking off his helmet. "I nearly missed that last one, did you see?"

"Yes, you were brilliant!" said Hermione, beaming.

Later in the evening, during dinner, Hermione picked up the _Evening Prophet_ someone left behind on the table.

"Anything new?" asked Ron, digging into the food.

Hermione's eyes grew wide just looking at the cover.

"What? Did someone die?" asked Brooke.

"No, there's been another breakout of Azkaban," she said, laying down the front page. A large picture of Azkaban draped the page atop the title in capital letters, _DEATH EATERS RELEASED._

"What the hell are they doing down there? You'd think they learned to put extra security after the first time," said Ron.

"It doesn't seem like the dementors are too happy with the Ministry. It says only three Death Eaters managed to get passed the dementors and they did it without a fight. The Minstry announces the escape of Avery Nott, Augustus Rookwood and Lucius Malfoy."

As a reflex, she glanced over at the Slytherin table, however Draco Mafloy was absent among his friends.

"Still think he's a death eater?" asked Ron.

"I don't think Voldemort would take it back even if his father's out of Azkaban," replied Harry.

Ron simply went back to his dinner without arguing and Hermione put down the newspaper, constantly shooting Brooke a glance.

Soon, the first Hogsmeade visit rolled around and Brooke met up with Anthony at the line where Filch scanned everyone with Secrecy Sensors. He poked and jabbed heavy coats, scarves, mittens and boots, for anything riddled with Dark magic.

"Where should we head off to first?" asked Anthony, while being scanned by Filch.

"Anywhere warm, really," she said behind her scarf. The wind was so unbearably sharp, Brooke wanted to walk around with her eyes closed. Anthony suggested Madam Puddifoot's, a quaint tea shop. She remembered all too well the sickeningly happy cherubs and pink sugar packets, but only until after she agreed.

Right as she stepped inside, a pair of cherub cheeks popped inches from her face. She resisted the impulse of swatting it away like a fly. Anthony grabbed a small booth in front of the shop window. The tablecloth was the same white and pink lace with the sugar packets arranged delicately on the top.

Making her stomach even more uneasy was the sight of the back of Pansy Parkinson's head. She and Draco sat in the booth directly in front of them, so that Brooke could be face to face with Draco if both of them had looked up at the same time.

He twirled the pink sugar packet around lazily in his fingers.

"Two cups, please," said Anthony to the cherub and it flew happily away.

"It's cold out," said Brooke, staring out the window.

"Yeah, but it reminds me of Christmas," he smiled. "Are you going anywhere for the holidays?"

"I'm probably heading to my sister's over in America. It's always alternating between there and at home."

"She lives all the way over there? Must be refreshing to vacation in another country all the time."

"Except we hardly do any magic, since she's married a muggle and lives in a suburb."

"Really?" his eyebrows raised.

"I don't find her any less of a witch or anything, though, it's her choice, so I don't see why I should," defended Brooke, but Anthony only remarked how he found muggle life interesting. She felt a twinge of embarrassment for automatically thinking he would look down on her family for that fact. Her eyes flickered up to the head of blonde two seats in front, who she blamed for her explanatory reflex.

The cherub came flying back, setting their tea cups carefully on the table and leaving with a handful of gold confetti thrown on top of them.

"That could get annoying later," Anthony smiled, taking a sip of tea.

"I wouldn't mind it as much if they took off the creepy smiles," replied Brooke.

She began to get annoyed at her ears always picking out the same whiny voice above the rest of the chatter.

"It is so wonderful of you to ask me to come here," sighed Pansy heavily, "The cherubs are so adorable!" "Yeah, they are," Draco replied, thoroughly uninterested, however Pansy was too oblivious to notice.

Brooke realized she was only half listening to Anthony's theory of exactly how Madam Puttifoot came to have the cherubs in the first place.

"Probably," said Brooke, smiling more than she normally would have. Not knowing what prompted Brooke to do so, she lay her hands on the table, well within Anthony's reach.

"My fingers always get so freezing," she said, pressing her fingers on the top of his warm hand, "See?"

"They're like icicles," he exclaimed, gently squeezing them. At the same time, Brooke's eyes wheeled over onto Draco and Pansy's table, letting a small smile envelop on her face at the sight of their hands perfectly separated on their own laps.

"You didn't bring gloves, did you?" said Anthony.

"I forgot them upstairs," replied Brooke, pushing down her gloves further into her bag with her free hand.

"Better take, mine then," he reached into his pocket and took out his dark blue gloves.

"No, then you'll be cold," said Brooke, who would've taken them if offered by anyone else.

"My hands are always warm," he insisted.

"It's too cold out; I won't let your hands turn blue."

He sighed, still smiling, "I guess we'll just have to walk around like this all day," he said, squeezing her fingers again. Brooke suddenly felt the room grow warmer.

After finishing their cup of tea, they got up to leave. They braced themselves before heading out the door. His gloved hands gingerly encasing her tiny fingers.

Outside, Hogsmeade resembled the emptiness of Diagon Alley, however with much more liveliness with the packed shops and occasional snowball throwing. People scurried from one store to the other to avoid the chilling wind.

They reached the end of Hogsmeade on the path toward the castle and hardly anyone was out in the street. He slowed down his pace to a casual stroll until stopping suddenly.

"It wouldn't be too forward, would it?" he started, nervously, "if I kissed you right now?"

Brooke was pleasantly surprised and as she opened her mouth, he spoke up again, rapidly, "I mean, if it is too forward, just tell me and we can keep walking, but-"

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth as he was in midsentence. Her scarf moved below her face, but she didn't notice the crisp wind at all.

"No, it wouldn't be too forward," she smiled, seeing their breath in the air. "And I never had someone ask me before. It's sweet."

Brooke tried to ignore the pang and snide voice saying how the only other guy who kissed her was Draco. He took her hand again and they walked.

Then, a piercing scream rang through the air. Five figures stood a ways worth ahead of them nearer to the castle. One began to drift up into the air. Running, Brooke recognized Harry, Ron and Hermione, launching forward to grab the girl.

She and Anthony arrived just as Katie collapsed onto Harry and Ron, still screaming and writhing in pain. Her friend, Leanne, sobbed in panic.

"What happened?" asked Brooke in alarm, seeing only a package in the snow.

"I'll go get help," said Anthony, running toward the castle.

"I was only trying to get _that_ away from her," sobbed Leanne, pointing at the package, "She was acting all funny and not herself- saying she needed to give it to Dumbledore."

"It's all right," said Hermione, putting an arm around her.

Harry and Ron pinned Katie down to keep her thrashing to a minimum. Brooke bent down to examine the package next to her. It had torn open and an opal necklace lay inside.

"That's the same one Malfoy was looking at," said Harry, barely heard over Katie's screams. "You don't think-" "Doubt it, Harry," grunted Ron, trying not to be kicked in the stomach as he held down her shoulders.

"That's what he must have bought at Borgin and Burkes that day," Harry persisted. "And gave it to Katie!"

"He didn't, Harry," said Brooke shook her head.

"He could have easily told her to deliver it to Dumbledore-"

Before Brooke could explain, Hagrid and Anthony came hurrying down. Hagrid easily picked up Katie in his enormous arms and took her to the castle.

The six of them stood quiet for a few moments before heading up the road. Harry trudged through the snow, his eyebrows together. Already, Brooke knew he was thinking up his own order of events so that Malfoy would be the mastermind behind Katie's incident. Brooke scoffed out loud, at which Harry stirred from his thoughts and looked up.

"I remember seeing the same necklace in the shop four years ago when I was hiding from him and his dad," started Harry, within an earshot of Ron. "He had a good look at it then and now remembered it and went back."

"I dunno Harry," said Ron, "what are the chances Malfoy _did_ remember it or that someone else didn't go in and buy it? And Leanne said Katie got it in the bathroom."

"She said she came back from the bathroom with it, she didn't necessarily get it in the bathroom itself-"

"It doesn't matter because Draco didn't give it to her," Brooke said harshly, "because he was in Madam Puttifoot's the entire time and was still there when we left."

At this Harry didn't find anything to say and he was quiet. McGonagall came down the stairs once they were on school grounds.

"Hagrid says you six saw what happened to Katie Bell- upstairs to my office at once, please! What's that you're holding, Potter?"

"It's the thing she touched," Harry held out the crumpled package.

"Good lord," McGonagall gasped, looking alarmed as she took the necklace from Harry. "No, no, Filch, they're with me!" she said to Filch, shuffling over with his secrecy sensors. "But take this to Professor Snape at once, and be sure not to touch it!"

They followed her up to her office and explained everything from Leanne's recount of Katie going to the Three Broomsticks bathroom, their argument and its result of a torn package. At this point, Professor McGonagall sent a crying Leanne to Madam Pomfrey to be treated for shock.

"What happened when Katie touched the necklace?"

"She rose up in the air," said Harry, "and then began to scream, and collapsed. Professor, can I see Professor Dumbledore, please?"

"The headmaster is away until Monday, Potter," said McGonagall, a little surprised.

"Away?" repeated Harry.

"Yes, away," she said again, strongly. "But I'm sure it can wait, can it not?"

"Professor," Harry paused, "I think- I think I know who gave Katie the necklace."

Brooke rolled her eyes so heavily that her head went along with it, but Harry continued.

"I think Draco Malfoy gave it to her, Professor."

McGonagall's expression did not seem to change, except for the quick raise of one thin eyebrow. "That is a serious accusation, Potter. Are you sure? Did you see him with a similar package?"

"No, he didn't," said Brooke with her arms crossed, "In fact, Harry didn't see him at all at Hogsmeade."

"Then, I don't see why you would suggest that Mr. Malfoy would have given Katie the necklace," McGongall turned back to Harry, who looked annoyed.

He took her pause to tell her about following Malfoy into Borgin and Burkes and the conversation he had with Borgin. Afterwards, McGonagall did not seem to understand the situation.

"He took something into the store for repair?"

"No, he just wanted Borgin to tell him how to fix something, but he didn't have it with him. But that's not the point, the thing is that he bought something at the same time, and I think it was that necklace-"

"So you did see him holding the same package?"

"No, Professor, he told Borgin to keep it in the shop for him-"

"His exact words were 'How would I look carrying that down the street?'" said Hermione.

"Well, he would look a bit of prat carrying a necklace," interjected Ron.

"That doesn't matter," said Brooke crossly, "He didn't give her the necklace, okay? He wouldn't do that if he knew exactly how much harm it would do and by asking Borgin how to fix it I'm sure he was perfectly aware-"

"Or maybe he did know what it does and gave it to her on purpose," retorted Harry.

"Well now you're just speculating," she said angrily.

"You're doing the same thing! You don't know him better than I do now that you don't talk to him anymore," said Harry irritably.

"That's enough!" McGonagall raised her voice. It was no need because Brooke didn't retort or even try. She stood face to face with Harry, breathing a bit heavier than the normal and had a momentary twitch to slap him. But her reason was greater than her passion. He was right. Brooke didn't know Draco any better than Harry did. She swallowed the dreadful lump in her throat.

"Potter, I appreciate you telling me this, but we cannot point the finger at Mr. Malfoy because you saw him in the same shop as the necklace and in any case, we have put stringent security measures in place this year. I do not believe that the necklace could have entered the school without our knowledge."

Professor McGonagall had risen from her seat and held the door open for them. Brooke turned around, slightly surprised upon seeing Anthony. She had forgotten he came along and was silent throughout the entire conversation.

Trailing out after him, McGonagall held out her hand and caught Brooke gently by the shoulder.

"I need to speak to you, however, Ms. Miller," she said. Brooke nodded.

"I'll see you," Brooke waved to Anthony.

"We'll just be out here, then," said Hermione, closing the door.

Being left alone in the classroom was not at all awkward, considering the numerous times she had training, however, McGonagall wore a stern expression. Wondering if the conversation now would include something about Animagus lessons or her relationship with Draco Malfoy, Brooke walked back over in front of her desk.

For a couple seconds, McGongall stared at her.

"Am I in trouble?" asked Brooke, hesitantly.

"No, no. Of course not," she said hastily, breaking her sympathetic gaze. Brooke never liked people looking at her that way. It made her feel pitied and weak. McGonagall cleared her throat and clasped her hands together. "I believe I have some unfortunate news for you, Brooke," her voice became softer than Brooke ever heard it. As warm as it sounded, Brooke's breath froze, and her ears intent on her next words. The room rang silent.

"They have found your father dead in London," she said, "They believe he was killed by Death Eaters."

Brooke had the impulse to laugh. It was a joke. Some cruel minded person decided to put a boggart in the room and take this form. But the longer McGonagall looked at her seriously, the more Brooke began to believe her words.

Slowly Brooke's face fell into a hardened stare, confused.

"They found him this morning. Your mother's already packed up and left for your sister's home. They're going to be with a close family friend, so that your sister is not the only wizard with them. The Ministry has informed the American Ministry of their stay and is keeping watch."

The information poured into Brooke, who tried to wrap her mind around it all. It didn't quite click yet, but McGonagall kept speaking.

"Your father joined back into the Order early in the summer, as you know and was on patrol around Grimmauld Place. It is my own personal decision to tell you their suspicions of exactly who killed your father. They are certain Anthony Dolohov, Avery Nott and Lucius Malfoy are to blame."

The little air Brooke had in her lungs deflated and her head pounded harder. She did not know her father rejoined the Order, as Professor McGonagall assumed. Nor did she feel comfort in being told again about the misdeeds of the Malfoys. Was it only a few minutes ago Brooke heatedly defended one of them from being accused of attempted murder of Katie Bell?

"The Ministry does not wish you to visit just now, but the other teachers and myself will fully understand if you want to miss classes and assignments until you are ready."

"No. That won't be necessary," her voice replied. Brooke barely recognized its sound. It was so distant and calm enough to articulate whole thoughts, unlike the jumbled mess swirling around in her head.

McGonagall was surprised at her quick answer, but nodded. "You may see your family after the Ministry clears it and accepts you to travel there. Hopefully we may get you to your sister's by the holiday break," McGonagall finished.

Brooke nodded. "Thank you," she said, heading towards the door.

"Brooke?"

"Yes?"

"If ever you need to talk, my office is open," McGonagall assured her.

"Thank you again," she smiled and turned the door knob. Once she stepped out, Brooke leaned on the closed the door behind her, shut her eyes and sighed.

"What did she want?" Hermione voice came at her.

Opening her eyes, she forgot Harry, Hermione and Ron had waited for her. Surprisingly, she found her eyes dry, but her stomach sharp and empty like a knife popped it and stayed sticking out of her.

"Erm," her voice rose four pitches higher. "She told me that…my father died."

Brooke spoke oddly neutral. Even as she told them, Brooke still didn't believe it. Or at least, she believed it, but the meaning of it hadn't struck her.

Harry and Ron's mouths opened slightly. Hermione gasped and immediately put her arm around her.

"No!" she said. "How? What happened?"

Brooke repeated the exact words McGonagall said. The three grew quiet, as to let her lament her sorrows, however, Brooke walked stony faced and numb. Her mind reeled, replaying the conversation.

Her father joined the Order without telling her. Surely, she was proud of him and Brooke almost cracked a smile. The next second, she thought him careless to not tell her and for potentially putting her mother in danger. But it felt cruel to criticize her dead father. After all, he died bravely in a stance against Voldemort's followers.

He must have put up an amazing fight against them. She had the image of him against three hooded Death Eaters in the moonlight, waving his wand left and right. One figure had his hood shaken off in dodging a spell and revealed long platinum blonde hair.

She had almost forgotten. McGonagall mentioned Lucius Malfoy.

"He killed him," she said aloud, stopping in the middle of the hall.

"Who?" asked Hermione.

"Lucius Malfoy. He killed him!" she repeated strongly, echoing.

Anger swooped in her insides trigging an urge to kick everything in sight or to tear the pillars down with her bare hands, but the halls stood empty. She wanted to yell, just to make the silence go away. It mocked her, wondering why she didn't look as upset as she felt. Brooke walked over and curled up on a window's ledge along with Harry, Ron, and Hermione following her silently.

* * *

**A/N: I know it was a pretty long chapter and I hope you enjoyed it :) There was a lot packed into this one, so please please review it & tell me your thoughts.  
**

**I say it a lot, but its cause I mean it: Thank you! Thank you guys for reading, suscribing and reviewing (those of you that do ;D). I love reading your comments on the story & what you liked or don't like, so keep it up.  
**

**I wish you all well as January closes up and hopefully so do your semesters. Check for an update sometime next week!**


	7. Unlucky

_I can't wait forever  
For you to get yourself together._

_I'm so tired of pretending  
Just want a happy ending_

_Wish I could put a spell on you  
Wish I could make you feel like I do  
Wouldn't that be sweet so magical  
Wish I could blink and wave a wand  
Get everything that I ever wanted  
And put a spell on you  
And make it all come true_

_See my heart it may be broken  
But that wont stop me hoping_

_  
I just wanna know what we should've done  
Cause I know in my heart I'm not over you._

**[Magical by Selena Gomez]  
**

* * *

The four of them set off for breakfast in the morning, not having mentioned Brooke's father since last night. She was fully aware that her eyes looked red and a bit puffy, but as there were no spells to fix it, Brooke left it alone.

In between conversations about the Malfoys being Death Eaters, Brooke had explained to the three about her date with Anthony, so it was no surprise to them when he caught up to her once they entered the Great Hall. Harry, Ron and Hermione continued onto the Gryffindor table.

"I heard about what happened," he said cautiously, "Are you okay?"

"More or less, but I'm holding up alright," she replied reassuringly, "Its remarkable how fast news travels, especially once you've told Parvati and Lavender in the dormitory."

"No, it was in the paper," he handed her a portion of the Daily Prophet.

The headline ran: Azkaban Escapees Add To The List of Dead. She read no further.

"It's terrible. You wouldn't think that stuff would actually happen," he said seriously.

"It's been happening for a while now," said Brooke thinking about Cedric Diggory, Barty Crouch, and Sirius Black. "Its just the entire world didn't believe he was back until now."

"So its true then?" his eyes grew wide. "Was he really killed by Death Eaters?"

Brooke nodded.

"Scary thought, those Death Eaters," he gulped. "I'd be terrified if I came across one."

She was glad Harry had not been around to hear him or else he would have given her such a look, pointing out that a Death Eater was sitting mere feet away from him, staring glumly into his food.

Draco must have read the paper and didn't have the integrity to talk to her. If he had been waiting for the perfect time to start being on civil terms with her again, now would have been the best opportunity. But Brooke walked by him without receiving a word.

Throughout the rest of the week, she received sympathetic apologies left and right, from her friends and people she hardly spoke to. Even some of her teachers offered assignment extensions or quiz postponements, but Brooke refused. She didn't want anything more to change. They were only being nice, however, with every person to say something to her the more she was reminded of it.

"I'm so sorry to hear about your father," said Parvati in common room.

"Hope your mother's taking it well," said Seamus at the Great Hall.

"Never mind those Death Eaters. They'll be back at Azkaban in no time," said Hagrid when they visited his hut.

"I'm sure they won't come after you next," said Cormac in the corridors after greeting a thoroughly annoyed Hermione. Ron stood glowering behind her.

"Right," replied Brooke.

"Don't listen to him," said Hermione, staring at the back of his head as he walked away.

"Of course not," said Brooke. "I feel like we're in the safest place possible with Dumbledore and everything."

"I don't think he's been at school this entire time though," said Harry. "I've tried to talk to him about Katie and Malfoy, but I can't even get into his office."

"Reckon he went to do more research on You-Know-Who for your next lesson?" suggested Ron.

"No. I think he knows enough about him. I mean, the last one was his own memory." "Maybe you should ask him where he's off to," said Ron.

"He can't just pry into his business. Dumbledore'll tell Harry if Harry needs to know," said Hermione.

"I suppose you think all my ideas are stupid?" Ron rounded on Hermione.

"What? I didn't even say that!" she defended.

"No, but you might as well have. And you can go off with McLaggen while you're at it," he narrowed his eyes.

"What does he have to do with anything? I only know him because of the Slug Club."

"Slug Club," sneered Ron. "It's pathetic. All you ever do is talk about your connections."

"Actually, there's a Christmas party that I was going ask you to come to, but if you think its that pathetic then I won't bother!"

"You were going to ask me?" asked Ron in a completely different voice.

"Yes," said Hermione who was now bright red, "but I guess you'd rather have me to go off with McLaggen."

There was a pause while she and Harry continued to walk by next to them. Brooke wondered if she should have grabbed Harry earlier to leave the two alone, but now they were stuck. She stared around at the pillars and the floor, but couldn't turn off her ears.

"No, I wouldn't," said Ron quietly.

The next thing she heard was an 'oof!' and Harry lay sprawled on the ground on top of a book bag he tripped over. He got up clumsily and apologized to the disgruntled looking girl whose bag it belonged to. Hermione and Ron snapped out of their conversation as if only now realizing that Brooke and Harry were still around.

The day moved on without another argument and no mention of the Slug Club until Hermione brought it up hours later in the common room. Harry and Ron headed off to bed and Brooke asked Hermione if she wanted to go on up too, but Hermione shook her head.

"No, I wanted to ask you for help on a couple things for the Potions essay," she wore an expression that had thoughts far from the subject of Potions.

"Yeah, sure. We'll see you guys in the morning, then," she said to Harry and Ron.

The door shut above them and Brooke turned her chair and stared at her.

"Can I ask you something?" said Hermione, closing her Potions book.

"Like what?"

"Erm," started Hermione. "Well, you were there earlier today when me and Ron were fighting."

Brooke nodded.

"Do you think it would be weird if I asked him to the party again? He didn't exactly give a straight answer and I wouldn't know anyone else to ask…"

"Yeah," Brooked said enthusiastically. "You should ask him again, only this time make sure he doesn't feel like you had to ask him. Make it seem like you want to go with him."

"I do want to go with him," she said softly.

"And I'm sure he wants you to ask," said Brooke, restraining her beaming to an encouraging smile. Although she was calm, Brooke wanted to fetch Ron down right now and have the two finally make up and decide to go out with each other.

"You think so?" Hermione tilted her head up sheepishly.

"Yes," said Brooke firmly. "Do you like him?"

"Excuse me?" asked Hermione in a high voice. "I mean, we've known each other for six years."

"No, I meant to ask if you fancy him?"

Hermione sputtered and finally let out a breath. "I- I don't know. I've thought about it sometimes and well- yes. Yes, I think I do." She had pink patches on the apples of her cheeks and wide smile across her face. Her hand reached over her mouth. "Oh, I don't know. I don't think he likes me. We fight all the time."

"That should be proof that he does like you," replied Brooke.

"Alright," Hermione let out a small breath and gave a nod. "I'll ask him tomorrow after the Quidditch match. Hopefully they win so he's not in an awful mood."

Hermione stood up to go to the dormitory.

"Wait. You're essay?" Brooke gestured at the forgotten parchment and quill laying at the table.

"Oh! Right, thanks."

It didn't surprise Brooke that Hermione fancied Ron. After all, she had been trying to get her to admit it for the past couple of years. What surprised her was that the thought of Ron made Hermione forget about an assignment. Brooke only hoped the two wouldn't be one of those embarrassing couples that were glued by the face every waking moment. She and Harry would have to endure that instead of bitter arguments.

Unless Hermione and Ron split up. Would they talk to each other if that ever happened? Most probably not, especially with the way they fight now. It would only get worse if something happened enough to break them up. There was nothing she could do, though, so she had to sit and see what would happen.

Hermione woke up early and they waited a while in the common room before Harry and Ron came down. The four of them went to the Great Hall for breakfast. The first Quidditch match was to take place later that day and Ron could hardly lift up his drink without spilling it all over the place.

"Cheer up, Ron!" called Lavender from another end of the Gryffindor table. "I know you'll be brilliant!"

Ron ignored her.

"She's right. You'll do fine, Ron," said Hermione, taking a sip from her own goblet.

Ron nodded, but still looked pale and uneasy.

"That's a waste already," said Harry, mopping up the spilled pumpkin juice. "Want some tea? Coffee? Pumpkin juice?"

"Anything," said Ron glumly, taking a moody bit of toast.

Hermione sighed at his negativity.

"There you go, Ron. Drink up," said Harry. He handed him another glass of pumpkin juice.

Ron had just raised the glass to his lips when Hermione spoke sharply.

"Don't drink that, Ron!"

"Why not?" asked Ron.

Hermione stared at Harry with her mouth open. "You just put something in that drink."

"Excuse me?" said Harry.

"You heard me. I saw you. You tipped something into Ron's drink. You've got the bottle in your hand right now!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Harry, hastily enclosing his fist around something clear and hiding it beneath the table.

Brooke sneaked her hand underneath and snatched for his fist.

"Let go of it!" said Brooke, wrestling to pry his hand open.

"Let go of what?" Harry retorted, pulling his arm back and since he was much stronger than Brooke, managed to get out of her grip. His arm recoiled back slightly out from the table.

"That bottle!" said Hermione. "I can't believe you, Harry!"

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about," Harry said seriously.

Hermione left it with a single scandalized scoff and stayed silent the rest of breakfast. Once Harry and Ron left early to get ready for the game, she burst again.

"He could expelled for that!" she said.

"Think about it. The potion makes good luck, so Ron'll win the match and be in a spectacular mood when you ask him to Slughorn's party. And if Ron does fancy you back, who knows what else might happen today?" smiled Brooke.

Hermione shook her head in disapproval, but couldn't help grinning at the notion.

They went down to the Quidditch Pitch with Anthony, Terry and Michael. Brooke might have tried setting up Hermione and Terry if she hadn't thought about her feelings for Ron. The two had plenty to talk about, mostly concerning academics. Anthony had the same idea.

"They seem to be getting along," murmured Anthony as they found seats. Terry and Hermione talked the entire way up about Briget Wenlock's discovery of the magical properties of the number seven.

"Yeah, but don't mess things up, cause I'm hoping Ron asks her out today," she whispered.

"Ron Weasley? I never even thought they got along all that well."

"They fight a lot, but its an odd relationship, I guess."

"You're telling me. I don't think I could handle all the fighting."

"You wouldn't think so, but I guess if you really love the person, you'd learn to love that too," said Brooke.

The teams walked out and they stood to cheer. Most of the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and all of Gryffindor roared when Harry led the team out into the field, in red and gold. And the Slytherins cheered for their team. Brooke was surprised at the absence of Draco in the Quidditch team, and as much as he disliked school spirit, Quidditch was the one thing he was interested in.

Madam Hooch stood next to the crate, raised her whistle and released the balls into the sky. A moment after, the players kicked off and sped after them.

"Well, there they go, and I think we're all surprised to see the team that Potter's put together this year. Many though, given Ronald Weasley's patchy performance as Keeper last year, that he might be off the team, but of course, a close personal friend ship with the Captain does help…"

Hermione snapped her head toward the commentator's podium. Standing in place of Lee Jordan's usual spot in Quidditch matches was Zacharias Smith.

"Oh, I hope he's only temporary," said Hermione sharply.

But her contempt was distracted by a close save by Ron.

"He's only saved it because of the potion," said Hermione disappointed, but clapping unenthusiastically.

"Well, there's not much we can do about it now," replied Brooke.

"I suppose."

Gryffindor led the game sixty points to zero and Ron was on top of his game, saving every Quaffle thrown his way. Hermione restrained her cheering each time resulting in a half pleased half pained face.

Brooke didn't know how Hermione did it, since the game was spectacular for Gryffindor and abysmal for Slytherin. The mass of green booed every one of Ron's saves and Ginny's scores, however they heartily applauded Zacharias Smith's skeptical comments about the Weasleys.

Even through the jeers, nothing phased the Gryffindor team. They glided through the air, weaving through the Slytherins with ease. Ron looked the happiest he's ever been out in the Quidditch field, now conducting a chorus of "Weasley Is Our King," from up above.

"And I think Harper of Slytherin's seen the Snitch!" said Zacharias Smith. "Yes, he's certainly seen something Potter hasn't!"

All eyes landed on Harry and Harper. Harper had sped off while Harry stayed on his broom, only now realizing the Snitch lay some feet above his head. The two leaned close to their broom, practically laying on top of it. Deadlocked in their speeds, Harry wouldn't be able to grab the snitch before Harper did. Just as she was sure the match was over and all the saves and scoring went down the drain, Harper fumbled the Snitch and sped past it. Harry's arm shot out.

He decelerated on his broom and held out a tiny golden ball between his fingers.

"YEAH!" Brooke shouted loudly, but could barely hear herself in the crowd. Luna's lion hat roared on top of the yelling. Anthony threw her a grasping high five. Hermione brought herself to a huge grin and clapped.

The Gryffindor Quidditch team collided together in a massive hug on the field, making a cluster of gold and scarlet. She and Hermione waved to the three Ravenclaw boys and made their way down to the Quidditch changing room.

"So, congratulate them and then ask him to party?" asked Hermione, whose fingers fiddled around with her scarf. "But do they really deserve to win?"

"Of course they did! Didn't you see them play?"

"Yes, but it was because of the Felix Felicis," she pointed out.

"It was an amazing game though!"

"Still, it was wrong," Hermione said stubbornly. "Maybe I'll just ask Ron later."

"So that he'll be in an even worse mood from when you bring down the hype of how well he played?" Brooke raised her eyebrows.

Hermione scrunched her face. "Okay, fine. But sooner or later, they'll realize what they did wasn't fair."

They congratulated Dean, Ginny, Demelza, Coote and Peakes, who just walked out of the changing room.

"Party in the common room!" Dean beamed at them before walking joyfully away.

Ron and Harry were the only ones left in the room.

"Great game, both of you!" Brooke smiled.

"Yes, you did wonderful," said Hermione with a stiff smile.

"Harry's the one to thank for all the 'lucky' stuff that happened," said Ron.

"And you're okay with that?" said Hermione.

"Are you kidding? We won by a landslide, Hermione!" he exclaimed.

"It's illegal," she stressed.

"What are you two talking about?" asked Harry, hanging up his robes.

"You spiked Ron's juice with lucky potion at breakfast! Felix Felicis!" said Hermione.

"No, I didn't," said Harry, grinning broadly.

"Yes, you did, Harry, and that's why everything went right, there were Slytherin players missing and Ron saved everything!"

"I didn't put it in!" said Harry. He took out a tiny bottle still filled with golden liquid and tightly sealed. "I wanted Ron to think I'd done it, so I faked it when I knew you were looking." He turned to Ron. "You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself."

"There really wasn't anything in my pumpkin juice?" said Ron, astonished. "But the weather…and Malfoy and Vaisey."

Harry shrugged.

Ron gaped and then turned angrily on Hermione. "You added Felix Felicis to Ron's juice this morning, that's why he saved everything! See! I can save goals without, help, Hermione!"

Her eyes were wide with disbelief and her voice squeaked. "I never said you couldn't- Ron, you thought you've been given the potion too!"

Ron strode past her and out the door. Brooke gritted her teeth. It was far from what she expected to happen.

"Er," said Harry, "shall…shall we go up to the party, then?"

"You go!" said Hermione, blinking back her tears.

"Hermione," Brooke began.

"I'll meet you up there," she said quietly.

Brooke wasn't intent on leaving her there, but Harry took a hold of her elbow to leave. Members of the crowd outside met Harry with a hearty congratulations.

"That didn't go half as well as I hoped," said Brooke.

"I thought for sure they would be friends again if we won the match," Harry shook his head.

"And it may be a bit worse now," said Brooke.

"They always get over it though. Sure, it might take a couple days, but," said Harry.

"I dunno. Hermione was going to ask Ron to Slughorn's party again- not as friends," Brooke hinted heavily.

Harry's eyebrows raised. "Oh."

Brooke nodded. "But now I'm not sure what'll happen. I was hoping he'd be in such a great mood and have more confidence from the game to finally ask her out."

The common room throbbed with music and every inch was filled with students. Harry was swarmed by a group of gaggling girls, wishing to grab him a drink or an get in depth recount of the game in his point of view. Quickly apologizing, he scanned the room and bumped into Ginny. Arnold, her pink Pygmy Puff, stood on her shoulder, bobbing happily.

"Looking for Ron?" she smirked. "He's over there- the hypocrite."

Brooke followed the direction of her eyes and squinted to make out the hands and arms. It took her a couple second to realize the odd picture was Ron and Lavender tightly wrapped around each other.

"It looks like he's eating her face," said Ginny dispassionately. "But I suppose he's got to refine his technique somehow. Good game, Harry."

No doubt, it was great to see Ron be in someone's arms. She felt uncomfortable the one afternoon when he suddenly asked why girls weren't more attracted to him.

"You're fanciable, Ron," she had said encouragingly. "You just haven't found the right one yet- or aren't noticing her," she added quietly.

At the same time, she wondered how Hermione was going to take it. A familiar head of thick brown hair appeared at her side. Hermione barely stopped at the sight for a second before swiftly turning back around and out the portrait hole.

Brooke looked at Harry, who immediately shared her thoughts. They followed after her. Harry turned the door knob at the first unlocked classroom and gestured to her.

She perched on top of the closest desk with tiny golden feathered birds circling above her.

"Oh, hello," she said in a brittle voice. "I was just practicing."

"They're really good," said Harry earnestly.

"Thanks," she said and the edges of her lips pulled up. "Shouldn't you two be at the party? Seems like fun…or at least Ron looked like he was having fun."

Brooke sighed quietly and sat down at the desk next to her.

"He has every right to do so," Hermione continued, "and now he's got Lavender Brown."

"You can still like him, though," said Brooke. "Sure, he has a girlfriend, but does that really change the way you feel?"

"Well, its obvious he doesn't feel the same way," her voice shook.

"You don't know that for sure," said Brooke.

"Then how can he be kissing another girl if he has feelings for someone else?" she asked skeptically.

Brooke swallowed. "Sometimes it gets complicated."

"Is that what's happening between you and Draco?" Hermione sniffed.

Her voice left and she felt as if something pushed down on her.

Hermione turned to Harry. "And you and Ginny?"

"Oh…erm," Harry drew a blank.

"I see the way you look at her, Harry. I'm your best friend," she paused.

The door flew open and Ron and Lavender stumbled in, laughing and clinging onto each other. Ron had a pleased look about him.

"Oops," giggled Lavender. "Looks like this one's taken." She scurried out the door.

Ron's grin subsided in the silence. "What's with the birds?" he asked awkwardly.

Hermione pushed herself off the desk gracefully. Very slowly and erect, she took a few steps toward him. "Oppugno," she breathed.

The circle of birds gained speed quickly and darted like bullets at Ron.

"Agh! Gerromoffme!" he threw his arms wildly and escaped out the door, closing it behind him. The golden birds hit the door and made tiny bursts of feathers as they disappeared.

Hermione sank back onto the desk and sobbed.

"Not a great week, then," said Anthony solemnly. The pair sat behind a ledge in the courtyard one weekend afternoon. Brooke explained what happened after the Quidditch match between Hermione and Ron.

"No," she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Don't worry; things'll get better," he reassured her.

Brooke reached into her pocket and pulled out a note to hand to him. It was sent to her that morning from the Ministry to basically inform her on their lack of progress in finding the Death Eaters and that the body would be in their possession until they see fit to allow a funeral. Along with it was her inheritance from her father's will.

"They have to find them sometime," he said unconvincingly.

"You're very optimistic," said Brooke with a small smile.

"Okay, they take a while, but they'll get the job done."

"The Ministry doesn't find the frustration of a sixteen year old girl significant," said Brooke doubtfully.

"Anything that has to do with your happiness is significant, to me, anyways," he said.

Her cheeks heated up quickly and she laughed. "Why are you so nice to me?"

"Cause you deserve it," Anthony shrugged, then lifted the note up. "And look- you're getting your father's entire library collection, so I have to be nice to you!"

* * *

**A/N: Wow. It feels like I haven't posted in forever. But here you go :) Sort of on the long side. I'm loving the reviews and thoughts, so please keep it up! I know this chapter was very Ron/Hermione, but they're probably my number one favorite couple in the books. Hopefully it was a bit of a break. **

**I'm incredibly excited for the next chapter and a little anxious, since I want to perfect it. Don't miss next time's post next week. It's very heavy in content and as much as I would love to tell you all about it, I don't want to give it away. Now click the review button!**


	8. The Golden Chains

_I am finding out that maybe I was wrong  
That I've fallen down and I can't do this alone_

_Stay with me, this is what I need, please?_

_Sing us a song and we'll sing it back to you  
We could sing our own but what would it be without you?_

_I am nothing now and it's been so long  
Since I've heard the sound, the sound of my only hope_

_This time I will be listening_

_(Please don't go now, please don't fade away) My heart is yours_

_This heart, it beats, beats for only you  
My heart is yours._

**[My Heart by Paramore]**

* * *

Brooke put on a new set of dark grey dress robes. Examining herself, she tilted her head and thought something was missing. Perhaps, it would look better with a necklace.

A black pouch lay on her side table drawer, still and untouched. Hesitantly, she lifted the pouch, blowing off the thin layer of dust and carefully shuffled the golden locket onto her bed.

Along the top, the metal chilled the tops of her warm fingers, cool from months of isolation. She carefully placed it around her neck.

The thought of Anthony's face if he had recognized the locket from the past two years urged her to take it off and grab another necklace. However, the more she looked at it, the more she loved how it matched the dress. After all, it was only a necklace.

She pushed her hair out from under the chain and ran her fingers down the golden links until her hands met at the center. Upon opening the locket, Brooke thought herself mad, feeling it twitch in her hands. Ignoring it, she casually examined the back where the metal lion melted into the locket with messy wand work, especially compared to the perfectly engraved snake.

He must have added that himself.

Immediately she dropped it back down on her chest, wiping her face carefully, to not mess up her makeup.

Brooke checked the time and saw how late she was. Rushing out the door, she never realized how heavy the necklace was and how it dug into the back of her neck, swinging from side to side.

Anthony waited for her outside the Gryffindor common room. He looked incredibly sharp in his dark blue satin dress robes.

"You look amazing," she smiled.

"Me? No one'll notice me standing next to the prettiest girl in the room," he twirled her around once and offered his arm.

Each stair step, she could feel the locket beating hard upon her own chest. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Inside Slughorn's office, the walls were draped with green curtains, the tables dressed in red and golden ornaments decorated whatever wall space was left. Music played itself from the instruments at one corner of the room, filling silent gaps between conversations. They greeted only a handful of people, some Brooke knew coming as dates or some Anthony introduced from the Slug Club.

Hermione had left their dormitory earlier to meet with Cormac McLaggen, wearing maroon dress robes. She would have looked absolutely gorgeous if it wasn't for how bothered and disgusted she felt going with McLaggen.

"He's ghastly," Hermione muttered to her as Anthony and McLaggen caught up. "He keeps dragging me underneath the mistletoe. What's even worse is the way he talks about himself. You would think he'd need a shrinking spell to keep his ego down."

"I'd feel sorrier if you hadn't gone with him voluntarily," said Brooke.

"It was a sacrifice I was willing to make. Although, I'm starting to think otherwise," added Hermione, as McLaggen pulled her away to meet the cowriter of Which Broomstick.

As she and Anthony moved closer into the crowd, they ran into Harry and Luna.

"Hi Luna. How are you?" she asked, appreciating Luna's festive silver Christmas tree inspired dress.

"I'm very good, thank you," she smiled brightly, her eyes wandering around at the floating candles.

"Slughorn finally got you to come, Harry?" said Anthony.

"Hopefully it'll be the last one," he said.

"I hear ya," replied Anthony. "The conversations that go on are just bragging battles between Cormac and Slughorn."

"Ah, Harry!" Slughorn squeezed between a group of people holding a tall drink. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Yes, Professor. Thanks for the invite," Harry said, making she and Anthony smile at his acting.

"Pleasure's all mine! Have you met Eldred Worple?" Slughorn grabbed Harry and led him away to a small bespectacled man next to a tall bored looking youth.

Anthony introduced her to the guitar player of the Weird Sisters, whom Slughorn apparently brought in a couple days ago. Brooke inwardly gaped at the band member dressed in artistically torn black dress robes, trying to speak articulately.

"So this is the Brooke you told me about?" said the Weird Sister.

"Yep, this is her," smiled Anthony.

"Nice to meet you," the Weird Sister shook her hand.

"You too," said Brooke, forcing a casual tone. She turned to Anthony "You didn't tell me you two met!"

"I wanted it to be a surprised," said Anthony, pleased with himself. "You mentioned they were one of your favorite bands, so I thought it'd be more fun to see you meet him."

"Aw. This one's a keeper," the Weird Sister winked. "Well, it seems Myron's calling, so hopefully I'll see you two around."

He thumped Anthony on the arm and walked away with Brooke's eyes still glued onto him.

"Myron? As in the lead singer Myron? He's here too?" asked Brooke.

Anthony nodded, grinning.

"And he knew my name," said Brooke, astonished. "You talked to him about me?"

"Well, yeah," he shrugged. "I was about to tell you, but I came up with this brilliant idea."

They found themselves alongside Harry, Luna and Slughorn, talking with Snape and a couple other guests she didn't recognize. She wanted to interrupt the conversation to tell Harry who she just met, but thought it rude.

"I don't think you should be an Auror, Harry," said Luna. "The Aurors are part of the Rotfang Conspiracy, I thought everyone knew that. They're working to bring down the Ministry of Magic from within using a combination of Dark Magic and gum disease."

Harry nearly spit out his mead, laughing, while the others stared politely at Luna, not sure whether or not they heard her correctly.

Coming through the crowd toward the group, was Argus Filch clutching the neck of Draco Malfoy's robes. The necklace beat along as fast as Brooke's own chest, rising up off her chest a few millimeters like a magnetic force.

"Will you let me go? I wasn't doing anything!" Draco tried wriggling away from Filch.

"Professor Slughorn," wheezed Filch, "I discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to be invited to your party and to have been delayed in setting out. Did you issue him with an invitation?"

Draco pulled himself free of Filch's grip, looking furious.

"All right, I wasn't invited!" he said angrily, "I was trying to gatecrash, happy?"

"No, I'm not," said Filch, a statement at complete odds with the glee on his face. "You're in trouble, you are! Didn't the headmaster say that nighttime prowling's out, unless you've got permission, didn't he, eh?"

"That's all right, Argus, that's all right," said Slughorn, waving a hand. "It's Christmas, and it's not a crime to want to come to a party. Just this once, we'll forget any punishment; you may stay Draco."

Malfoy straightened his outfit. Brooke stared, thinking how perfectly he suited the fitted black blazer and black shirt. He glanced at her with his eyebrows raised. He forgot about she was likely to show up at the party, since Anthony was in Slughorn's little club.

Perhaps it was the time length since Brooke and Draco acknowledged each others presence, but something different lay about him. A less effective demeaning stare in his eyes and a graying tinge to his skin, however the overall image made him look more frightening.

Malfoy composed his face into a smile after turning towards Slughorn. He thanked him for his generosity.

"It's nothing, nothing," said Slughorn. "I did know your grandfather, after all…"

"He always spoke very highly of you, sir," said Draco quickly. "Said you were the best potion maker he'd ever known…"

Brooke laughed in her head at his attempt at sucking up to Slughorn. Immediately after, she felt like she was going to be sick. Her conscience made her believe staring at him was a sin. It knew the better of her, especially with where her thoughts headed now. Her eyes still lay upon Draco. She drank up his image and his voice just like the Amortencia.

"I'd like a word with you, Draco," said Snape, suddenly.

"Oh, now, Severus," said Slughorn, "it's Christmas, don't be too hard-"

"I am his Head of House, and I shall decide how hard, or otherwise, to be," said Snape, curtly. "Follow me, Draco."

Brooke pulled her eyes around to Anthony as the two walked away. He looked at her cautiously.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" lied Brooke. The moment Anthony took his eyes off of her, she touched the locket. In that touch she transferred every ounce of emotion into it and off of herself.

--

Harry dodged through the crowd, bumping into Hermione.

"Oh thank goodness, I thought you were Cormac," she sighed. Not having time to explain, he seized her arm and draped the Invisibility Cloak over them once they stepped outside the party.

"Now what?" she whispered.

"They went this way," he replied quietly, going up to each door and listened for any voices.

"Who are you looking for?" demanded Hermione.

"Malfoy and Snape," said Harry, straining his ears.

"Oh, Harry," she sighed.

"Shh!" he covered her mouth and crouched to the keyhole of the last classroom in the corridor.

"…already you are suspected of having a hand in it."

Draco raised his head. "Who suspects me? That Bell girl must have some enemy no one knows about- don't look at me like that! I know what you're doing. I'm not stupid; it won't work!"

He was ready to stop Snape's legilimens.

There was more on Draco's mind than just Katie Bell's incident that he didn't want Snape to see.

How idiotic he must have looked being dragged into the party by a halfwit Squib and the odds of it being in front of those two!

"What are you trying to conceal from your master, Draco?" asked Snape suddenly.

"I'm not trying to conceal anything from him, I just don't want you butting in!" Draco moved from his place on the desk.

"Listen to me," said Snape, inching closer. "I am trying to help you. I swore to your mother I would protect you. I made the Unbreakable Vow, Draco-" "Looks like you'll have to break it then, because I don't need your protection! He chose me and I'm doing it," he said angrily, especially now knowing his own mother went around his back, thinking he couldn't do it alone.

"If you tell me what you are trying to do, I can assist you-"

"Ha! So you can take over my plans? I can do it myself," he spat.

"You are speaking like a child," said Snape. "I understand that you're distressed over your father murdering that girl's-"

"Shut up!"

"It is perfectly understandable the way you are handling it, but-"

Draco immediately strode to the door, not wanting to hear anymore of what Snape had to say. He slammed it closed before Snape could follow him down the corridor.

---

"You sure?" asked Anthony again.

Brooke nodded enthusiastically for the tenth time. "I still can't believe we talked to a Weird Sister," she added to change the subject.

"Yeah," he said slowly, unconvinced at her smile. "Yeah, anything to see you happy."

"You're too sweet," said Brooke, inching closer to him.

"No," he smiled, and kissed her.

The locket pounded violently, however, that wasn't the reason she withdrew so quickly. Now, Brooke felt more sick than she had been a few minutes ago with a throbbing hot pain behind her eyes.

"Sorry, I think it's a bit humid in here," Brooke covered up, really fanning herself stop herself from crying. "I think I'm gonna be outside for a bit of air."

"Need me to come with you?" he asked, slightly alarmed.

"No, no, I wouldn't want you to leave the party. I'll just be a minute," she called, hurrying out the door.

She was being selfish, for now Anthony probably thought seeing Draco upset her. If he did think that, which Brooke thought was certain, he was right.

Brooke had not made Draco run out of the room, instead he had the decency to fix up a smile and actually thank Slughorn for keeping him there. Nor did he want to rip Anthony to pieces as Brooke wanted to do to Pansy every time she saw her. No, that was different. Anthony never provoked him as that horrid girl did to her. No, none of this was fair. But she couldn't blame him. She couldn't blame anyone, really.

Feeling the need to separate herself again, Brooke ran down the corridor. Thump. Thump. Thump.

---

Harry pulled Hermione away from the door as he heard Malfoy's footsteps approach. They waited for Snape to leave the classroom before opening their mouths and once he disappeared around a corner, Harry immediately looked to Hermione.

"What's an Unbreakable Vow?" he asked.

"It's basically a magical promise and if it's broken, Snape dies," she said with her eyes wide.

Harry understood her fearful expression. Why would Snape risk his life to help Malfoy?

"Now do you think he's not up to something?"

"I never said that. I just don't think he's a Death Eater," explained Hermione. "And Snape was probably trying to get Malfoy to tell him what he was doing instead of wanting to help."

The way Snape talked, however, was all too real to be an act. He already knew he couldn't convince Hermione, but perhaps if they went after Malfoy, she might be persuaded.

He and Hermione ran to find him. They reached the dungeon entrance and asked surrounding portraits if they had seen a tall blonde go inside. Disappointed at their answer, Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak.

"Where else would he go at this hour?" asked Harry.

"Perhaps," said Hermione to herself, trailing off. She threw the cloak back over them and led him down the corridor.

---

An imbecile Snape was to bring that up, said Draco to himself. Since when did he think he was in a place to say what other people were feeling?

Draco walked swiftly down and away from the castle until he reached the two branches blocking the opening to the spot beside the lake. The rocks lay in the same position across the trees. The edges of the lake stood perfectly still and he hated its calmness, its peacefulness.

He channeled his anger into a good kick at a stick of wood. Suddenly, he heard sobs and backed behind a cluster of trees. Peeking from behind a trunk, he saw the branches rustle and a girl stumble in, her dark grey dress robes caught onto a snag on the tree.

Brooke carelessly pulled it off, tearing the fabric. She sighed, relieved to be alone. Her cheeks shone like dew on her face from the mix of wetness and wind. All of her thoughts spiraled together, incomprehensibly leading her to think her entire life at the worst point possible.

On the way down to the lake, Brooke finally accepted her sad attachment to Draco, hating herself for dragging Anthony along. Anthony had always been so kind to her, being there for her and making her laugh everyday, but at the same time, she spent two years with Draco. He made her furious at times and God bless the few days they didn't get into an argument.

Who was she kidding? She missed him and some small nagging part of her wished everyday Draco stood next to her instead of Anthony. But a Malfoy killed her father. Brooke kicked the rock nearby. Her foot pounded in pain, furiously and pleasantly.

Nothing seemed to have a solution. Her father was dead. Easily, Brooke believed it to be her own fault. Why else would Lucius Malfoy specifically go after him? The only answer Brooke could think of was his bitter contempt of her in the first place. And her father had been so proud of her fighting at the Ministry of Magic last year.

Brooke gasped. That was why he rejoined the Order. It _was_ her fault he was gone.

Brooke cursed. She wanted to blame Draco. After all, he could have told her he knew what was going to happen at the Ministry and stop her.

_And yet you still love hi_m, said a voice in her head. _Even when he can't bare to look at you._

What a foolish move to wear the necklace tonight, giving into her sick obsession.

The voice laughed at her, knowing the real reason she wore the necklace.

The voice was right. It reminded her of the hopeful thoughts that Brooke constantly tried to dispel. Brooke cried, humiliated for bringing the locket back to Hogwarts, hoping by some miracle Draco would forget all about what he said at the end of last year and things would be back to the way they were.

Something glittered. The solution seemed simple. Was it that easy? Brooke stood up and approached the waves with a slight tug from the golden chain, urging her forward.

She gasped at the freezing cold water at her feet. Within seconds they were numb and almost pearl white.

Her arm lifted slowly, loosely grasping her wand. The lake grew more furious, swirling and crashing around her. She didn't even know a spell like this one.

"Brooke?" Draco breathed, staring at her. She didn't hear him. Further she went into the thrashing water, her dress getting heavier and heavier. It threw around her like heavy chains.

"Brooke!" he called out, abandoning his hiding spot behind the trees. He ran into the lake, and caught her when her elbows were at the water's surface. She shivered violently, almost limp in his grasp.

"What are you doing?" he gasped, frightened.

The new angry waves pushed them around and with the extra weight to carry; Draco was knocked down, tripping both of them underneath the icy water. He quickly pulled himself up with a cold gasp of air. The lake turned into a stormy ocean, forcing him down and pulling him in ten directions.

Draco searched fearfully through the waves and the mist, finally getting a glimpse of an arm, which he seized. Staggering onto the damp sand, they fell.

The wind blew even harder and the very tips of Draco's nerves screamed until they too were numbed, but he paid almost no attention.

Brooke's complexion was ghostly pale and her lips turning lavender. Her eyes were closed.

"Brooke!" someone called.

"Get off her!" yelled Harry, leaving the cloak on the sand and his wand pointing straight at Draco.

Hermione ran towards Brooke, horrified. "Brooke! Oh my- Brooke! What happened?"

"She walked into the lake and I went in to get her," Draco explained, a slight panic in his voice. She looked like a corpse.

Harry resisted hexing Malfoy, and instead, helped him move Brooke away from the water.

"We need to take her to Madam Pomfrey!" said Hermione in between incantations to dry off Brooke's hair and robes.

"Is she…" Draco cut off.

"I- I don't think so," said Hermione, her voice odd sounding without the definite confidence it usually had in answer questions.

Harry and Draco took either side of Brooke's shoulders and headed up to the castle.

They hurried up the road and into the castle, their feet echoing all the way into the Hospital Wing and Brooke's feet dragging in between them.

Madam Pomfrey checked her pulse and doublechecked her breathing and reassured them Brooke had only passed out.

The nurse quickly acted in drying Brooke with a spell much more effective than Hermione's and forcing a warming potion down both Brooke and Draco's throats.

Brooke slowly stirred awake, however only disoriented for a couple of moments before Madam Pomfrey got her into a bed and gave her a sleeping potion. Draco, however, refused to be put into cot and insisted he was okay. Giving up, Madam Pomfrey left to her office, for what Hermione guessed to later inform Professor McGonagall of the situation.

Draco sat on the end of a bed nearby. He wasn't sure what intrigued him the most, that Brooke practically tried to kill herself or the reasons why she did it.

"What exactly happened before we got there?" asked Hermione with her hand clutching around her mouth. She stared fearfully at Brooke, but addressing Draco.

"I told you. She came sobbing after I got there and sat for a while, just crying. Then she stood up and started walking to the water," said Draco, hollowly. "Suddenly the lake turned into tidal waves."

"You didn't say anything to her?" asked Harry, staring at Draco suspiciously.

"No, I didn't," he replied firmly, though annoyed. "I ran in once I realized what she was doing."

"You were there first?" asked Harry skeptically.

"Yes. Why? You don't think I tried to kill her do you?" said Draco, standing up.

"Maybe I do," said Harry fiercely.

"Well I didn't," he replied, trying to keep his temper. "Why on earth would I-"

"I dunno. You almost killed Katie Bell," said Harry before stopping himself. Draco looked livid.

"Keep your accusations to yourself unless you have proof, Potter," Draco narrowed his eyes.

"Is this really the time?" said Hermione angrily and eyes sparkling.

After fifteen minutes, Harry realized Slughorn's party was still going on and he had left Luna all alone. He told Hermione he would be back after finding Luna and Anthony if Brooke had left the same way Harry did. Hermione insisted they both go and come back in the morning after they got well needed sleep.

"But Hermione," Harry muttered and nodded at Draco who still sat unmoving on the bed.

"He won't do anything," she pushed him towards the door.

"Didn't you hear his conversation with Snape?" whispered Harry. "He's up to something."

"But I'm positive this isn't it. Right now, she safest with him," said Hermione firmly.

* * *

**A/N: I really hope you liked this chapter! & please review, especially this one. There are probably two or three chapters I am dying to get your feedback (comments, reactions, improvements, etc.) and this is one of them. Even if you're one of those readers, who I still greatly appreciate for reading ;), and don't review, maybe you'll do it for this one? :)**

**I'm looking forward to your reviews and hopefully you're looking forward to the next chapters.**

**[**as a tiny side note, I originally had 'Miserable At Best' by MaydayParade set in stone to head this chapter, since it sort of spurred the idea in the first place, but I think 'My Heart' fits more, even if you listen to a piano version of it :)**] **

**& to you lovebirds out there, **_happy valentines day_**.  
**


	9. Christmas at the Manor

_Hello there, the angel from my nightmare  
The shadow in the background of the morgue  
The unsuspecting victim of darkness in the valley_

_Where are you and I'm so sorry  
I cannot sleep I cannot dream tonight  
I need somebody and always  
This sick strange darkness_

_Stop this pain tonight_

_Don't waste your time on me you're already _

_ The voice inside my head (I miss you, I miss you)_

_**//**  
_

_I'm tired of being what you want me to be  
Feeling so faithless lost under the surface  
Don't know what you're expecting of me_

_Every step that I take is another mistake to you_

_I've become so numb I can't feel you there_

**[I Miss You by Blink 182 & Numb by Linkin Park]**

* * *

Harry and Ron went down to the common room first thing in the morning to wait for Hermione, except she was already waiting at the foot of the boys' dormitory stairway.

They set off for the Hospital Wing, passing a few students headed for an early breakfast. Once they stepped into the room, Harry was surprised to find Malfoy now seated in a chair next to Brooke's bed, fast asleep.

He and Ron exchanged glances, stopping at the foot of Brooke's bed, while Hermione hesitantly approached Malfoy.

He was still in his clothes from the previous night, everything askew as he was slumped up on his chair and his bright hair ruffled in his eyes. Harry never realized how ill he looked. Dark circles shadowed underneath his eyes and he was thinner than Harry remembered.

Hermione coughed loudly to wake him up. Upon Harry, Ron and Hermione's sight, he turned slightly pink, but took another glace at Brooke, and hurried to the door.

As he reached for the door knob, it twisted and Anthony Goldstein walked in. The two stared at each other for a second before Anthony said, "It was a lucky thing you were there."

Draco merely looked at him and nodded curtly before walking out the door.

"I can't believe he stayed here all night," said Hermione quietly to Harry. "I would've thought he'd left at most an hour or two after we did."

"She alright?" Anthony rushing toward Brooke's bed and placed himself in front of Draco's chair.

"I think so," replied Hermione.

"Blimey. She looks so peaceful now," said Ron.

"She's not _dead_, Ron," said Hermione scornfully.

Harry thought the only reason Hermione even spoke to Ron was because she was still in shock. Although Harry did most of the explanation to him last night in the common room, Hermione pushed enough of her pride to speak once Lavender unraveled herself from Ron and went to the dormitory.

"I didn't mean it like that," he added quickly. "I just can't imagine her trying to kill herself-"

"How can you be so insensitive, Ron!" she yelled at him.

"How was that insensitive?" said Ron, taking a step back. "I was just saying-"

"Hermione, she did walk right into the lake," said Harry, sharing Ron's surprise at her sudden outburst.

"She said she was only going for fresh air," said Anthony. "Why do you think she-"

"She was only…Oh, I should have realized she wasn't well," shook her head in guilt. "I could've talked to her, but I've been so busy lately-"

"It's not your fault," said Harry quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Brooke slowly came to her senses, waking up to the sound of familiar voices, the stale clean scent of the Hospital Wing and feeling their eyes on her. She hoped it was only a dream, but knew better. Although she couldn't see them yet, she knew they were looking down on her, worried and afraid. Brooke didn't want to meet their apprehensive gazes, but couldn't stop her eyes from flickering open.

"But I could've done _some_thing," said Hermione ruefully.

Soft blue eyes immediately met the Brooke's. Anthony had been keeping his eyes on her, while Harry and Ron were turned to an upset Hermione.

"Morning," smiled Anthony calmly. She was grateful he wasn't standing over her with a grave look on his face or worse, fear.

"Morning," said Brooke, sitting up.

It was silent for a few moments until Hermione suddenly rushed over to her and hugged her tightly. Suddenly, a wave of guilt threw itself onto Broooke threatening to pour out from the brown in her eyes, but receded as fast as it came.

"I'm sorry," Brooke began. "You must think I'm mad. I was just…overcome, I guess."

Hermione let go and gasped, "I'm just glad you're alright!"

A little ways behind her, was Ron, whose bright red hair offsetting Hermione's light brown curls caught her attention. It had been a while since she saw the two within earshot of each other.

"I am too," replied Brooke.

"Why did you do it?" asked Hermione in a small voice.

"I don't know," said Brooke, pushing her hair away and the moment she felt the gold chain still around her neck, she stopped. Brooke unlatched the necklace.

Immediately, it felt like ten pounds lifted off and she took a breath. Only now did she realize how shallow she'd been breathing.

"I mean, it's one hell of a winter," Brooke continued. "I couldn't handle it for a moment."

"Promise you won't ever do that again," said Hermione after a long pause, almost in tears.

"I won't," she said firmly, gazing intently at the golden locket in her hand. It was a scary thought, thinking she wouldn't have come back if it weren't for Draco. Brooke's head peeked up and she scanned around the room. "Where's Draco?"

"He just left," replied Anthony, with an unusually blank expression.

"Right. So…how was Slughorn's party without me?" she smiled, trying to loosen them up.

Brooke really wanted them to forget all about last night. She wasn't herself. Of course, her actions only prompted them to keep a special eye on her, however, Brooke had to acknowledge their efforts to be casual.

She found herself in many long conversations with Hermione about it during their free periods. For the first day, Hermione became more careful around Brooke, but never prompted her to talk until Brooke reassured her of it. Brooke decided to leave the necklace out of it entirely, concluding that her mind was completely unbalanced that night and her imaginations ran to the verge of insanity. Keeping that quiet was easy, for Hermione was much more interested in talking about Draco.

Although initially hesitant, she admitted Hermione was right. Brooke still thought of Draco, however, Brooke accepted not talking to him, convinced whatever thoughts were soon fading away.

She didn't like the idea of having to transition between relationships, but her certainty made it easier to ignore the uneasy throbbing deep in her gut.

She and Anthony sat one night around the corridors just before curfew.

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking at her sideways.

"I find more and more people asking me the same questions each day," smiled Brooke, leaning on him.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"No, no," she said quickly, "I completely understand. I'd do the same." For a moment she paused. "I don't know why I did it. It was like…well, you remember in our third year, when the dementors came into the Hogwarts Express?"

He nodded.

"It was a lot like that. That horrible sense of anguish and hollowness. And that you'd want anything to stop it. That's how I felt. It wasn't fun to say the least."

"Was it because of your dad?" he asked quietly.

Brooke paused. "Sort of," she said, sliding her hand from his elbow into his hand. "I kept thinking it was my fault."

"How'd you get to that idea?"

"I thought of how proud he was of me. Of my Animagus and fighting last year," Brooke stopped. She wasn't sure about mentioning the Order of the Phoenix and having to explain the entire situation. "Well, I don't know. I was crazy that night- got to odd conclusions."

"You weren't crazy. You _aren't_ crazy," he said, grasping her hands.

Brooke sighed and shook her head. "I'm really lucky aren't I?"

"For having Malfoy already down there to stop you? Yeah."

"No, no," she smiled. "I'm lucky because you're still here with me. You haven't left."

The clouds crawled across the pearl colored moon, shining its dim light upon the grass of the courtyard, the water in the lake, and the castle walls, all silently still.

Seven flights of stairs above them, another boy stood in front of a plain beige wall. He couldn't sleep because of the nagging reminders that time was running out and he was rid of ideas. It wouldn't work. It might never work.

And Draco and his family would be killed. If he was successful, he lived, all the while helping the Dark Lord one step further. Brooke would help fight against him, Draco was sure of that.

But he _had_ to get this right- _family comes first_. Draco found himself back in front of the same Vanishing Cabinet he'd been staring at for what felt like years. Like an aftershock of an earthquake, the fear Draco felt when he looked upon Brooke's collapsed body shook through him. No, now he's straddling along the middle knowing whatever choice he made, whatever played out in the end, one of them would be dead.

--

Anthony had been bothered by the fact that Draco was the one down at the lake, but soon understood once Brooke explained how even before, the two considered the lake to be a place to be alone. It wasn't "their" spot; it was each one's separate spot.

Although her friends treated her the same, Madam Pomfrey had to inform her Head of House, Professor McGonagall about the incident. Invited to her office later in the day, Brooke explained exactly what happened and what she felt that night, leaving out a couple details.

The entire hour reminded her of a therapy session. She got up to leave, hoping McGonagall didn't think she was crazy too.

"Oh, I almost forgot," said Professor McGonagall. "Tomorrow morning you may report back to my office with some of your belongings and you can be at your sister's for the holidays."

"Really?" Brooke's eyes widened.

"Yes," she nodded. "But I will also have to send her an owl about what happened."

"Alright," said Brooke, expecting her mother to never treat her the same again.

Still ecstatic and relieved, Brooke sped off to tell Hermione, who had offered she come with her to her house for the break.

After saying her goodbyes and holiday wishes, Brooke went to McGonagall's office once she woke up.

"Good morning, Brooke," she smiled. "Professor Dumbledore and the Ministry has authorized a direct use of the floo network straight to your sister's home."

Brooke heaved her luggage into the fireplace and grabbed a handful of the ash in the pot.

"Oh, and Happy Holidays," said Professor McGonagall as the green flames encased her, filling the entire chimney.

--

Swirling, the marble floors and numerous replaceable trinkets glittered back right before his eyes. Draco stepped out of the fireplace and wiped the ashes from his shoulders, while his mother swooped from her place in a nearby armchair to hug him.

Too tired to match her own enthusiasm, he smiled weakly and mumbled something about putting his belongings away in his room. Unfortunately, his mother scurried behind him, up the swirling staircase all the way to the room.

"You have gotten my letter, haven't you?" she asked, up on the top few steps. "I noticed no response-"

"Yes, I got it," he said in a bored voice. "And I've been busy, you know."

"Well, I would expect so. You should be putting your entire efforts into it and taking advice from as many people as you can trust," she hinted heavily.

"If you're taking about Snape, I'll tell you the same thing I told him- I have everything covered," he snapped at her.

"Draco," she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, "I need you to put aside your pride-"

"_My_ pride? Who was it that said in your letter that said he was exceedingly proud of me to _volunteer_ and gain back the family name?" his voice rang in the empty entrance room. "I was forced to do this because he let himself get caught!"

Narcissa Malfoy's face tightened. "I shall hope you lose that temper once your father comes home."

"He's coming here? Shouldn't he be on the run or does he want us to get into more goddamn trouble?" Draco spat.

"Your father tried to keep us from trouble!" his mother said strongly. "He will only be here for a couple hours on Christmas Eve night and whether or not you still feel so strongly about him, you better not show it."

Draco seized his luggage and stormed into his room without another word. He would have never had the insulted his own father in front of mother, but now, he knew, she would not think of mentioning it to him.

Something changed between them and it made his insides twist sickeningly. True, his mother had always obeyed orders, but once, he thought bravely, perhaps she now did them out of fear. A swift wave of anger overcame him and Draco slammed his trunk on his bed, making the ends of the sheets fly up as if the trunk punched it dead center.

No more was it out of the ordinary for Draco to think of his father horribly. Someone once made it clear to him that he had been bitter towards his father for a long time and only she was the one he admitted it to.

It was hard enough to go back to Hogwarts and take classes where he sat only a couple feet away from Brooke, but it was even worse to see her around the smart ass Goldstein.

Draco pictured himself ten years from now with a girl like Pansy Parkinson. That's who he would end up with. That's who he would risk being close to.

If Draco was unfortunate to become a mirror image of his father, treating people the way he treated his mother, Draco could not feel at ease if it had been any other person. He deserved someone like Pansy Parkinson.

Dinner was quiet at the long stretched table and Draco held in his tongue when he spotted the carefully centered china plate sitting in front of his father's chair. A desperate bead of hope, Draco thought to himself, and sadly, his mother would be seriously disappointed.

He turned out to be right, making it through an undisturbed meal. However, just as they were to clear the plates, a swift beat of knocking sounded at the door. His mother's eyes grew wide and told Draco to go into the kitchen.

Using his foot to push the heavy double doors, Draco placed the plates near the sink, keeping his ears perked for any voice. For a few seconds, he hardly heard a thing.

"Don't think I don't know why you have shown up here late at night without warning," said his mother's muffled voice.

"I have already explained-"

"There is no further reason for your stay and I must ask you to leave," his mother said sternly.

"Mrs. Malfoy, this is a precautionary procedure. It will not take long," replied the man with a business like tone.

"The time does not matter, but the fact that you accuse us-"

"We are not accusing, but find it necessary to gain as much information as we need."

Immediately, Draco left the kitchen room and back through the double doors. A broad shouldered man in dark robes stood in front of his mother and his narrowed eyes scanned every portrait, vase, and chair until it landed upon Draco.

"Ah, good. I was hoping to get the entire family together for this," he said as if there appeared a cluster of Malfoys stepped into the dining room.

"Who are you?" asked Draco, walking closer.

"Steven Wilkinson of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," he said briskly, sticking out his hand. Hesitantly, Draco shook it.

"I was hoping I could ask a few things about your father," Wilkinson continued. "As you probably know, he escaped Azkaban with two others, both of whom are known to be Death Eaters."

"Well, for your information, the Ministry had already bombarded us with questions early in the summer and if you think about accusing us, yet again," Narcissa Malfoy said angrily.

"Yes, well I apologize for the inconvenience," he said quickly, "but as I said, this is all precautionary, including this very interview."

"Interrogation is more like it," she snapped, however, Steven Wilkinson did not flinch.

"But you do know about the recent Azkaban breakout?" the man pulled out a royal blue notebook with a golden seal and a matching quill.

"Of course."

"You have not seen or heard from him or the others since then?"

"No, we have not."

"Have you found any suspicious items strewed around your house, things he might have left or forgotten?"

"The Ministry knows we do not. They have searched the entire manor," said Narcissa, her eyes glistening menacingly.

"And you have no thoughts as to where he might have gone- any known favorite towns or anything at all?"

"No, we do not often travel far," she replied impatiently.

"How about you?" he swiftly turned to Draco. "Has he mentioned before any special places or even friends that may have helped him out?"

The man's eyes were bright and in the light, they almost looked wiped blank, clueless.

"No, I never really talked much to him, really," replied Draco in an uninterested tone.

"I see this is all very sensitive to you," said Wilkinson sympathetically, putting his quill down. "And I understand you- both of you, to have mixed feelings about this entire process. Perhaps, feeling like it is your responsibility to protect your father and husband, or that you would feel guilty if you say anything that might give him away. But understand, that we want to help him just as much as you do."

"Then, it may be easier for you to _help_ him if you stopped questioning people who have no idea of his whereabouts and be on your way," said Draco's mother.

Wilkinson sighed and put away his notebook and quill. "I'm sorry for the interruption (Narcissa Malfoy rolled her eyes) and the Ministry will inform you on any further of our findings," he said, quickly making for the door.

Once he was a step out of the door, Narcissa shut and locked it after him, sighing. She looked to Draco, but he had already made his way up the stairs and turned the corner to his room.

_He was trapped. Darkness enclosed all around him and his universe panned over a two foot wide and six foot tall box. Draco was trapped in the Vanishing Cabinet and frantically pushed against the walls, the floor and the ceiling, only finding the door knob pieces, broken and unattached. There was no where to put it. Only a slit lay before his eyes and he peered through them._

_It sounded like the entire castle was crashing all around him, the suits of armor clanked against the floors, glass cases shattered, and doors burst open in pieces. He wasn't trapped. He was hiding._

_Footsteps grew toward his hiding spot and he saw a girl stumble in front of the cabinet, backing up against it until her dark hair was right below his eyes._

_His father's eyes glimmered gleefully with his wand extended straight at her._

"_Please!" cried Brooke._

_Draco wasn't sure if his father even uttered a word or if Brooke let out a scream, but a green light struck so close to him, he thought for sure it missed and hit him straight in the eyes._

_But Brooke's hair fell from Draco's sight._

_An alarm rang in his head, ringing in his ears. One launch at the door and it broke down and disappeared into nothingness. Brooke lay on her side with her hair draped on her face. Everything including his father and the cabinet grew further away from them, fading into the darkness._

The smell of his bed sheets filled his nostrils, suddenly waking up and seeing the sunlight beam down through the window, peeking past the dark green curtains. His sheets were damp from his own sweat and his heart pulsated and pushed blood furiously to every part in his body. He felt like he ran five miles in his sleep.

Draco forced breath out of his lungs and wiped his damp hair away from his face.

Not bothering to get up just yet, he watched the small dust particles float around in the light, in a graceful descent.

Twenty minutes later, he shuffled down the grand stairs, onto the glaring white marble tile floor until he hit the navy blue Armenian rug of the sitting room.

Draco stopped and laid his eyes on a familiar tall man whose hair stood as bright as the chandelier lights in contrast to the dark red walls behind him. Hatred filled him up. The shadow of an imaginary memory ate at him from the inside out.

"Ah, Draco, sleeping in I see?" Lucius Malfoy stayed seating to greet his son. He sat nobly in an armchair opposite of his mother and looked thinner than Draco remembered. His hair lost its usual sleekness and instead was visibly dry with slight effort shown of combing it. "The day has already started without you."

Somewhere in his head told him to say something to his father, but he couldn't manage to speak. Brooke's unmoving body stood clear in his mind as if she lay before him.

"Why don't say hello to your father?" his mother said to him, trying to hide the command in her voice with a stiff smile. But he only stared, not having moved an inch.

"What's wrong?" asked his father with fake concern. Of all things, that was what Draco found unchanged from his time in Azkaban. After another few seconds of staring, his mother opened her mouth.

"Nothing," he said suddenly. "Hello, father."

"Something troubles you," said his father, "Is it the task you've been assigned?"

Before Draco could answer, Lucius continued in a satisfied tone. "Yes, I have heard about your task and I must say, I did not know if you had it in you to complete it, but your mother here tells me you're doing a fine job."

"He is!" Narcissa cut in, "says its coming along nicely. Draco would never let down the Dark Lord."

"Excellent," Lucius said with a hunger in his voice. "It will redeem the family if you succeed and I must say, that although I will not be here for long, I can still help-"

"No," said Draco. "I have everything covered."

"I see," said his father, civilly disappointed.

"Why don't you sit and have breakfast?" his mother patted the tablecloth next to her seat on the table.

Reluctantly, Draco moved from his standing spot in the room and silently sat down, serving himself breakfast although he didn't feel hungry at all.

"The house has been quite calm since summer," said Narcissa. "I do wish you would come home."

"Ah, well you know precisely why I cannot," replied Lucius. "Perhaps after the Dark Lord succeeds his rightful power, can we all be safely at home. However, Dolohov, Avery, and I have not had our share of activity," he added contemptuously.

Draco lazily swiveled his water in the clear glass he grasped in his hands.

"The Dark Lord, of course, does not want the Ministry to be on his own trail, on his important tasks, so we're left with the scraps- the unimportant and far from what my place used to be," Lucius said passionately, stuck in reminiscence. "High up on the Dark Lord's favor- _that_'s where I should be.

"I've only had my part in diminishing a miniscule portion of resistance and it hadn't even been a specific instruction by the Dark Lord. A replaceable member of that lousy Order of Dumbledore's. That man had no chance once the three of us showed up."

The tightness around the glass increased so that Draco was certain it would shatter in his grip.

"He was waving his wand like a child, although I only got to see a second of it, as he left himself open for a straight Cruciatus curse to the chest."

"I'm sure you were brilliant battling him," said Narcissa.

"Battle? Ha! One lazy flick of a wand and the man struck dead upon the cement," Lucius laughed along with Narcissa's polite giggle. His expression didn't hold one centimeter of remorse and his laughter echoed around in Draco's head.

"Why did you have to kill him?" Draco asked, louder than he expected and his voice echoing in the vast room.

Lucius Malfoy's eyebrows raised lazily, but his eyes lit with curiosity and surprise.

"He was in fighting against the Dark Lord," he replied simply.

"Yes, but hardly essential- a 'scrap' you said-"

"The Dark Lord would be pleased to find a clearer path for him," said Lucius firmly.

"However, you think he is so powerful. He could have easily gone to power without that one death," retorted Draco. His palms grew clammy for he never dared to speak to his father this way. The glass stayed in his hands and he had hardly looked straight up at his father until now.

Lucius narrowed his eyes at Draco and a quick smile curved at his lips.

"Ah, I remember now," said Lucius, clear that he had been waiting for the right time to mention the obvious, "He did look familiar. Was he not that young girl's father?"

"Brooke," said Draco before thinking, "Her name's Brooke."

Lucius nodded. "You seem to take much interest in her father's death. Tell me, Draco, do you still…care for this Brooke?"

Draco swallowed. "No." He felt his father's eyes poring over him, reading every slight movement. This was worse than Legillimens.

"Draco," Lucius said quietly, "you must understand that there are only people for your cause and those against it-"

"I said I have no care for her," said Draco angrily, accidentally jerking his arm and making the water in his glass swish over its edges and fall against his hand.

His father said nothing, but only looked more surprised and curious.

"Shall we have tea later on before you leave?" asked his mother.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for being two days late on the update! But here it is and hopefully you all like it. Thanks for reviewing on the last chapter, I really appreciate each comment :) Please keep telling me your thoughts. It only takes a few seconds.**


	10. Keeping A Promise

_My ship went down in a sea of sound_  
_When I woke up alone I had everything_

_In a city of fools, I was careful and cool_

_A handful of moments, I wished I could change_  
_But I was carried away_

_My lungs gave out, as I faced the crowd_

_Arrogant boy, love yourself so no one has to_  
_They're better off without you_

_Give me therapy, I'm a walking travesty_  
_But I'm smilin' at everything_  
_Therapy, you were never a friend to me_  
_But you can take back your misery_

**[Therapy by All Time Low]**

* * *

A deformed flesh colored balloon with a rather large nose and tiny ears stared back at Brooke. She, her sister, her brother in law and their one year old son, Vincent, finished decorating the Christmas tree. Brooke now sat next to the derailed train that was entertaining her little nephew, trying to get it back on the small tracks curving around the tree trunk. Every time she looked up, an ornamental globe stared back at her.

This Christmas would be as deformed and abstract as her reflection in the orb, Brooke thought.

Once she appeared in the fireplace, her mother came running into the room and hugged her tightly. Brooke thought her mother would cry, but thankfully it seemed she was past the stage of grieving. How she pulled herself together, Brooke admired that strength.

No, instead, her mother questioned her for running into the lake during a freezing cold night, while saying over and over how grateful she was that she did not loose two loved ones in less than a small span of two months.

Brooke immediately felt guilty for throwing more burdens to her mother and again wished all would be forgotten. After a bit more of a greeting to her sister and husband, Brooke had to explain exactly why and what happened the night of the Christmas party.

"But there was another thing to it too, I'm sure," said Brooke after telling them her dilemma with Draco, Anthony, her father and transfiguring. "You see, I had this locket and I could have sworn it was doing something- I'm not sure what, but I- I don't know."

Brooke couldn't find the words to put it, since it didn't talk or feel like an Imperius curse, which she had been under last year in the Department of Mysteries. It was the first time mentioning her suspicions, knowing their disconnection to the magical world. Her sister and mother knew some of the basics of magic, but to someone like Hermione or McGonagall, they would surely make it into a huge deal. Brooke wasn't even sure anymore. It could have easily just been all in her head.

"So, it was cursed. Turn in whoever gave it to you," suggested her sister.

"No," said Brooke slowly. "No, it couldn't have been cursed. I've had it for a while- years, really. I know it wasn't initially dangerous, but something strange happened to it at the Department of Mysteries. There were odd artifacts in there; the necklace must have touched something."

"You had better get rid of it," said her mother.

"Yeah, erm. I already did," Brooke lied. At that time, the locket was cradled in its pouch, tucked away in a zipped up pocket on the inside of her luggage. Brooke wasn't sure what she was going to do with it. Throwing it away seemed unnecessary and who knows where it would end up. For now the locket was safe.

Christmas Eve morning, a few hours before her relatives would disapparate or use the Floo network to arrive, Brooke heard sobbing from behind the door of her mother's bedroom. No one else was home to perhaps accompany in with her, since they went to do last minute groceries for the night. She knew she should walk in and say something of comfort, but Brooke was never great at making anyone feel better. Nonetheless, she twisted the door knob and opened the door.

Her mother sat on her bed. Just sitting and crying. Brooke wanted to run out of the room and leave her be, but her feet carried her towards the bed.

"This is the first Christmas without your father," she smiled helplessly.

"I know."

"Are you going to be alright?" "Me? I'm always okay," Brooke replied. "How are you?"

She only nodded uncertainly. "I admire your strength. You've gotten that from him."

Brooke wasn't sure what to say. She gave a tiny smile.

"He was very proud of you," her mother continued in a teary voice. "I'm not sure how I'm going to get along without him. And to think, I almost lost both of you."

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, hoping her mother wouldn't burst out in tears. "And I already know I'm not going to do that again."

"No, no. You shouldn't have to apologize, but I just hope you know that there are always people to talk to. And you can come home if anything is too much. I don't want to lose you, too."

"I promise, you won't," said Brooke.

The room was filled with the worst feeling of awkwardness. Brooke wasn't sure if she should hug her mother or not. In a compromise between the two, Brooke put a hand on her mother's shoulder and stood up, giving a last reassuring smile before hastily leaving.

Grateful to be out of there, Brooke let out a long breathe, feeling heartless for not being more consoling. Later in the day, her mother looked well again as people began to arrive.

Thankfully, they need not know about Brooke's incident and her relatives found more conversation in apology after apology for the loss of Brooke's father. They discussed how he died, what he was up to and how the Minstry was handling the entire ordeal.

Luckily, Brooke and her cousins avoided taking part in the talk and left to Vincent's room.

"Parcel for you. It came by owl. You should tell your friends that owls around here aren't exactly common, but we just put him with Caleb and Arjeta," said Margaret, tossing a cake sized box neatly wrapped in navy blue wrapping paper. "Who's Anthony?"

"Oh," said Brooke, taking the present and the card she held out. Brooke sent Caleb out to deliver her gifts the day before yesterday so he would be back to rest for the two Christmas days. He came back that very afternoon along with Harry, Ron and Hermione's presents.

Brooke opened the box and took out a china tea set, a fake crystal ball and gloves.

Attached to the ball was a note reading:

To remind you of my most favorite class. Without it, I wouldn't have asked to you to Hogsmeade. Happy Christmas! -Anthony G.

Brooke beamed at the trinkets reminding her of that very day in Hogsmeade. Tied around the gloves was a black ribbon bracelet, which she immediately put on around her wrist.

"What interesting gifts," said Margaret, peering into the crystal ball.

"So what happened to that bloke I thought you were dating? Didn't you say he was a Malfoy?" asked William, another one of her cousins, who came over to see what was going on.

"What does it matter if he was a Malfoy?" said Brooke, admiring how the bracelet looked on her wrist.

"Well, Maggie was telling me how awful the lot of them are," continued William.

"I did not," defended Margaret. "That's just what Brooke told me."

"Anyway, it was in the news," he said, lowering his voice. "His father being a Death Eater and breaking out and killing…you know."

"I know, I know," said Brooke, waving her hand. "We broke up before all this, okay? So I really don't know much."

"Oh," he nodded. "Isn't it weird though? Being around him- not only because you broke up, but…with everything going on?"

"Of course it is, but until either one of us transfers out, I'll have to deal with it."

Brooke wasn't sure if she'd feel better if Draco left Hogwarts. It seemed like the best idea for herself, since his constant presence seemed to open those memories rather than restraining them. Absentmindedly, her hand slipped into one of the gloves Anthony sent her.

Soon, the holidays were over and Brooke's trunk laid in the front of the fireplace along next to Caleb, ready to Floo back to Hogwarts. The Ministry in America arranged a half hour time period to open her sister's chimney back to the traffic of the Floo Network.

"Write to us if you ever need to- I don't care if Ministry said not to," added her mother when Brooke opened her mouth. "Take care of yourself."

"I will," nodded Brooke, hugging her mother.

"Keep your promise," she whispered, hugging back tightly.

Brooke smiled after stepping into heart of the fireplace and grabbing a fistful of the dark green sand.

"Hogwarts!" she shouted clearly and the flames engulfed her, spinning the scene into a darker lit room with wooden desks. Professor McGonagall's office came into view and Brooke stepped, out coughing. She smiled at a small third year who came in just before her.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Miller," said McGonagall from behind her tidy desk and spectacles.

"Good afternoon, Professor," replied Brooke.

"I trust that you had a good holiday break at your sister's?" she looked up from her piece of parchment.

"I did," said Brooke. "How were yours?"

"Just fine," McGonagall returned the smile. "I believe Ms. Granger is around somewhere looking for you."

"Alright. Thanks," said Brooke, grabbing her luggage and walking out the door.

The corridors were filled with students carrying their luggage to their dormitories and mostly those of the younger classes who stopped along the way to yell someone's name, run up and hug them as if it had been ages since they last met.

Brooke's mood was neither happier to be at Hogwarts or sad that the holidays didn't last longer at home. No, she figured the best of the two had to be Hogwarts. Not only were her friends here, but it felt a lot more like home.

Once Brooke turned a corner, a hand enclosed on top of her mouth and the other arm draped across both her shoulders to hold in her in place. Caleb hooted and fluttered around in his cage, flying in the opposite direction to help her get away. Brooke turned her head just enough to see his dark hair and huge smile. He led her backwards to the courtyard.

"What are you doing?" she laughed once Anthony let her go.

"What? I can't kidnap my own girlfriend?" he said innocently, inching close to her face and kissing her.

"You're so weird," she said after pulling away from him.

They spent a while out in the corridor until Brooke remembered Hermione was looking for her and Harry and Ron would have arrived already. She picked up Caleb and her trunk and walked toward the common room.

"Brooke!" a bushy haired girl hurried her way.

"Hey, Hermione. How were the holidays?"

"Really great. My parents decided not to go on vacation and instead spend Christmas at home, just the three of us," said Hermione.

"Sounds nice," smiled Brooke.

"Yours were alright?"

"Same old- well no, it wasn't exactly the same, you know, but it was fine."

Hermione threw a sympathetic look. "How's your mother and sister?"

"They'll be fine. The entire family came over, so everyone was alright."

They reached the portrait hole and found Harry, Ron and Ginny standing in front of it, arguing with the Fat Lady.

"What do you mean the password's been changed?" said Ron.

"It has been changed," enunciated the Fat Lady.

"Well, how're we supposed to know what it is? We've been gone, haven't we?" argued Harry.

"Harry! Ginny!" Hermione ran to hug them. "Did you have a good Christmas?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "It was pretty eventful-"

"I have something for you," said Hermione, who hadn't yet looked at Ron once. "Oh, password. _Abstinence_."

The portrait hole swung open and they gathered inside.

"It's a note from Dumbledore," Hermione reached into her pocket and pulled out a slip of paper.

"Brilliant. I have loads to tell him- and you too, Brooke, for that matter," said Harry, sitting down at one of the small tables. Simultaneously, a shriek came from the doorway.

"Won Won!" squealed Lavender. She jumped herself into Ron's arms. Hermione gave an airy laugh and turned away.

"Hermione, can't you-" started Harry.

"No," she said flatly.

Harry gave a look of stubborn disappointment, then up at Brooke. "Anyway, Hermione and I overheard Malfoy and Snape right after he left the party. Malfoy explicitly said he was chosen for something- a mission, I think and he doesn't want Snape to go around in his business to help him. Snape kept at him, trying to get in on the plan-"

"But like I told Harry, Snape was probably getting Malfoy to confess what he's up to," interjected Hermione.

"What was this plan they were talking about?" asked Brooke.

"I don't know," Harry shook his head. "He never said anything, but Snape mentioned 'Master.' Who could he possibly be referring to except Voldemort?"

Brooke felt her eyes give a little roll, but she was more uncertain than ever. "Well, what else did he say? You can't base it off on just one word."

"Snape made an Unbreakable Vow to help Malfoy."

"It means Snape made a promise and if he breaks it, he dies," explained Hermione once Brooke's eyebrows furrowed.

"No, I know what it means. It's just…I can't understand what's so important for him to do it."

"I told you," whispered Harry. "This proves he's a death eater!"

"I still don't think we should jump to conclusions," said Hermione.

As much as Brooke agreed with Hermione, there was no way of getting around the fact that Malfoy was up to something and if whatever it is makes even Snape nervous, it was safe to say it wasn't anything good.

The rest of the evening flew by and Hermione didn't waste a moment of the free time, budging Brooke to keep talking whether it was about Harry's recount of Rufus Scrimgeour over the holidays or a simple question of what she was thinking about.

"I'm alright, you know," said Brooke after Hermione asked her for the third time that night. "I can't say I don't appreciate you caring, but for once I really do think I'm okay."

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Hermione. "The last thing I want is to annoy you."

"You're not annoying, Hermione," said Brooke, immediately feeling portrayed as ungrateful. "I just don't want you worrying over me when you don't have to."

Hermione looked at Brooke.

"I'll tell you the next time I really do feel…strange."

"Okay, okay. I just want to make sure nothing happens again," she paused. "If I had realized something was troubling you beforehand, I could've-"

"Don't blame yourself," replied Brooke. "And believe me, the shock guarantees I won't do it again. Something was off that night and I've made sure whatever it was is gone."

For precautionary purposes, she magically sealed a small box with the locket placed inside. Currently, it stayed at the bottom of her trunk, out of reach and certainly harder to access than its place on top of her drawer. Initially, Brooke was going to leave it at her sister's house, but if Brooke was right about it being cursed, whoever happened to come across it might not be as lucky as she was.

The first day of second term started off with a large sign for all sixth years in the common room.

**APPARATION LESSONS**

_If you are seventeen years of age, or will turn seventeen on or before the 31st of August next, you are eligible for a twelve week course of Apparation Lessons from a Ministry of Magic Apparration instructor. Please sign below if you would like to participate. Cost: 12 Galleons._

Brooke handed back Hermione's quill after signing below her name. They squeezed below Harry and Ron, who stretched over the two to sign up. A second later, "Guess who, Won-Won?" crowed above the chatter and Lavender Brown crept up behind Ron and covered his eyes.

Hermione sped up towards the portrait hole. Harry and Brooke caught up to her and as did Ron soon after, but Hermione immediately picked up her pace away from them. Brooke sighed and glanced at the two boys before again, following after her.

"Still not forgiving him, I see," said Brooke, taking long strides to keep up with her.

Hermione gave a small "Hmph!" that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a scoff muffled by her lips.

"You can't avoid him forever. Trust me," she muttered. Draco passed by, leading the usual gang of Slytherins.

"Have you talked to him at all since the Hospital Wing?" asked Hermione, clearly taking advantage of comment to change the subject.

Brooke shook her head. "I haven't seen him since, actually. He looks ghastly."

"I've noticed too. He doesn't look at all happy."

"Well, I guess his holidays were bittersweet with his father in jail," said Brooke. Then an odd thought occurred to her. Both of them had to go through Christmas without their fathers.

She told Anthony about her small realization later in the night during their Astronomy class. They had to map out the constellations for that particular night sky and she and Anthony grabbed telescopes near the back wall.

"We're both practically fatherless. Odd, isn't it?" asked Brooke.

"Yeah, pretty weird."

"Especially the irony of how they're gone because of the other," she rested the end of her quill on her lip. "I wonder how he's taking it."

"Dunno," said Anthony looking into his telescope. "His father was put into Azkaban already, so he's probably not surprised. What does the Taurus constellation stand for again?"

"Its named after the bull Zeus turned into to steal away the girl he loved," Brooke handed him Professor Sinistra's hand out and finished her train of thought. "But, I think Draco'd feel even worse because of that."

"Maybe," said Anthony, still into his telescope.

Brooke looked into her own, thinking she'd better finish the map before the end of the class. "What does Taurus look like?"

"Tall, blonde and has a pointed chin," muttered Anthony.

"Hm?"

"Looks like this," he pointed at the stars on the paper.

After Harry's meeting with Dumbledore, he came after Hermione.

"What's a Horcrux?" he asked.

"A what?"

"A Horcrux. It was in the memory Dumbledore showed me last night- Slughorn's. He tampered with it and I need to find out exactly what he said."

"Must be serious if Slughorn's that determined to get rid of the memory. But no, I haven't even heard of a Horcrux."

Harry, who has been splitting his time between Ron and Hermione, accompanied she and Brooke to the library to look through the books for any sign of the word. Brooke also tried to split her time, but found herself around Hermione more than Ron, since she knew Ron always had the company of Lavender. Sometimes, however she talked to him when Hermione wasn't around.

"She's smothering me," said Ron, watching Lavender skip away in the snow. She looked somewhat eerie as she shrunk in the distance with the edges of her hair bouncing from side to side.

"Then why don't you end it?" asked Brooke.

"Did you see the necklace she gave me? She goes beserk if I don't wear it," he said, yanking the silver chain with the words 'My Sweetheart' attached in curly letters. "If I ended it, she'd murder me."

"Seems like she's already suffocating you."

"Yeah. Hey," his face illuminated. "Why don't you tell her for me!"

"Me?" exclaimed Brooke. "I have to sleep in the same dormitory with the girl. Who knows what she'd do to me once my eyes close."

"You could let her down easy," he said.

"Or you could do it, yourself. I'm not impartial to you breaking up with her. After all, maybe Hermione might start talking to you again."

"Right," his face fell. "She's still mad?"

Brooke nodded.

"Why? It's not like I did anything wrong."

"Think about it, Ron," Brooke hinted. "Why would she be so mad about you going out with Lavender?"

Ron shrugged.

"She wasn't mad before you kissed her and suddenly she's angry?" Brooke stressed even more.

"You think she hates Lavender?" Ron asked slowly.

"Well, yes but," Brooke sighed. "That's not the point."

"Then why is she acting all crazy?"

"Maybe you should go and talk to her about it," Brooke gave up. She tried to bring the two to talk to each other every chance she got, but telling Ron straight out how Hermione felt might make things even worse. Hermione, unlike Ron who was only afraid of being attacked by birds again, would not even give a reason why she was mad at Ron anymore.

"Just talk to him for goodness' sake," groaned Brooke.

"No," she replied firmly.

"Come on, you try to get me to talk about how I feel every day now. You have to do the same, but to Ron."

"This is different," she shook her head.

"How is it different?" asked Brooke.

"It just is. There's only a downside if I talk to him- either he thinks I'm mad for fancying him or…"

"Or he'll realize he feels the exact same way," Brooke pushed.

"He doesn't, Brooke!" Hermione raised her voice and Brooke knew she pushed a little too far. "If he did, he wouldn't be snogging Lavender every ten seconds."

"Maybe he doesn't know whether or not to break up with her because he's not sure if you like him back," said Brooke. She didn't know why suggestions kept throwing out of her mouth when she knew she should just be quiet.

"Then, he's a bigger fool than I thought!" said Hermione sharply and sped off in the opposite direction.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you all for your reviews, alerts and everything. I hope you're not too impatient with Brooke and Draco :P But I promise you, that its getting there. I haven't had much time to write, but hopefully this weekend I can catch up and post longer chapters.**


	11. Strange Resolutions

_A freak of nature, stuck in reality_

_Under the radar, out of the system,_  
_ caught in the spotlight, that's my existence,_

_You try to leave me,I don't get better,_

_In my dreams, _  
_ together, we'll be...Strange, strange,_  
_ in your perfect world..._

_ Strange-I am so afraid_  
_ Strange-I am so afraid_

_Strange, Strange_  
_ In your perfect world,_  
_ Sooo strange,strange_  
_ I feel so absurd in this life,_  
_ Don't come closer, in my arms,_  
_ Forever you'll be strange, strange_  
_ Like Me_

_In my arms forever you'll be,_  
_ Strange, Strange,_  
_ Like Me..._

**[Strange by Tokio Hotel and Kerli]**

* * *

February rolled around and brought along the lilac grey colored clouds. The grass on the courtyards still crunched under their shoes from frosted dew in the mornings, but the snow began to melt.

Every time she passed by Draco, Brooke urged herself to go up to him. The least she could do was say a thank you for not letting her drown herself, but after class or each two second crossing in the hall failed mostly because of her annoying excuses. She didn't want to interrupt him in a conversation. Or perhaps he had somewhere to go and would be late if she stopped him. Each thought had an empty promise to thank Draco later.

Again it was happening.

Draco was walking down the stairs leading into the Slytherin dungeon, alone. It was perfect timing. Brooke quickened her pace toward the stairs, but stopped at the first step. Was she even allowed to go down these steps or were they only for Slytherins? Well, if she called out his name, she would definitely look too eager or maybe even frighten him and cause him to trip on the stairs.

Then, he disappeared into their common room. Brooke groaned, disbelieving such ridiculous thoughts could cause so much doubt.

Shaking her head, she continued through the hall.

The sixth years had their first apparation lesson scheduled around midday and they gathered in the Great Hall.

The four heads of houses stood in place of the four house tables. Snape, McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout ordered the students to be quiet as a frail old man with wisps of white hair stood before them. Brooke, Anthony, Hermione and Harry (Ron was nearby somewhere with Lavender) were close enough to the front where she could see the old man's hands. They looked more like long bones with worn out leather loosely holding them together.

"Good morning," said the wizard in much stronger voice than she expected. "My name is Wilkie Twycross and I shall be your Ministry Apparation instructor for the next twelve weeks. I hope to be able to prepare you for your Apparation Tests in this time-"

"Malfoy, be quiet and pay attention!" barked Professor McGonagall.

Everyone turned around. Draco glowed dull pink patches on his cheeks and took a step away from Crabbe.

"As you may know," continued Twycross, "it is usually impossible to Apparate or Disapparate within Hogwarts. The headmaster has lifted this enchantment, purely within the Great Hall, for one hour, so do not be unwise to try anything foolish. Now, to make this go a tad bit more smoothly, get into alphabetical order."

The students bustled around trying to figure out where to stand with such a huge amount of space in the room.

"Come now, alphabetical," said Flitwick, trying to organize as much as possible. "Longbottom, then Malfoy, then McDougal. McDougal? Where is that boy?"

He circled around in his place.

"Professor, his parents took him out last term, remember?" said Justin Finch Fletchley from the line in front of them.

"Oh, right, well then, Ms. Miller," gestured Flitwick to the spot next to Draco. For a second she stared at him incredulously, but was physically moved and stumbled into her place. There was exactly ten feet in front of her before the next line of students. Anthony and Hermione were within sight in front and Harry was somewhere in the line behind her, further than ten feet would normally feel. The four foot spaces horizontally, however, felt like four inches.

If she tried to move further away from Draco, it meant moving closer to Theodore Nott, and that would simply be unpleasant, so Brooke stayed put. Being this close, she felt inclined to say something. Never would another perfect chance to say thank you offer itself to her. _Please say something_, her head rang. Brooke's eyes focused on anything on her right side like the back of Seamus' head or the moving crinkles on Justin's shirt, however, her attention laid fully on every slight movement in the corner of her eye.

He turned enough for her to catch his face and she tilted her head slightly to glance, but he looked up to the front. His mouth opened, but then it closed.

His head turned in her direction and she looked at him. His eyes weren't initially on her, but Brooke's sudden glance immediately cued his stare to fall on her.

"Erm," she said, then er mind wiped blank. The lack of looking him straight in the eyes for almost a year made her forget the sharp details in the cool grey in his eyes, and the ice colored flecks piercing through the colors. In contrast, Draco had the nice picture of her mouth hanging open.

"I'm really sorry," he said articulately, but softly.

"Sorry for what?" she asked, taken out of her mental lock.

Draco wanted to say sorry for a number of things, but settled on, "For what happened to your father. Erm, I'm really sorry to hear about it and I'm sorry since my father…"

"Oh," Brooke nodded. "That's okay. I'm sure its just as hard with your father being on the other side of that."

"Kind of different, though," he said.

"Well, there's no need for you to apologize for it," she said.

"Yes, there is. I know he won't and," he paused, taking a look at her- for months she'd been an blurred image in his peripheral sight, but now Draco was forced to face what he tried to erase from his mind. "And it was a mistake, on his part," he added, catching himself from what might have turned to be an awkward confession.

"Thanks," she gave a smile. _Now_, her mind urged. "For that and for getting me in the lake."

"It was no problem," he said quickly. "Luck- it was, really."

"I suppose, but you didn't have to run into a freezing cold lake at nighttime," she said. "If you weren't there, I would've probably-"

"No problem," he said again, quietly and paused. "You're alright, though?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "I'm good. Better."

He nodded back politely.

"What about you? Are you okay?" she asked hesitantly.

"I guess I'm alright," he said, surprised. "Why?"

"I dunno," she shrugged. "Have you been getting much sleep? You look exhausted."

"No, but it's a small sacrifice compared to-"

Twycross interrupted the conversation, leaving Brooke with a puzzling half of a sentence.

"Now then…" he flicked his wand and wooden hoops appeared on the floor in front of each student. "The important things to remember when Apparating are the three D's! Destination, Determination, Deliberation!

Step one: Fix your mind firmly on your destination; for this exercise that would be the interior of the hoop."

Brooke stared at the hole in front of her.

"Step two: Focus your determination to occupy the visualized space."

She wasn't sure how hard she would have to stare at the empty hoop just to get into it. Nonetheless, she stared, but it seemed unlikely to work without a wand or something.

"Step three," said Twycross, "and only when I command to do so, turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation! One…two…three!"

Alarmed that Twycross expected them to try it, Brooke spun on the spot. She staggered for a moment, then collided into another spinning body and ended up on the floor. Draco groaned from underneath her.

"I am so sorry!" Brooke gasped, quickly getting up.

"It's okay," he said grabbing her offered forearm to stand up. A numbing prickling spread across her arm from where he held on.

In front of her own hoop again, she was surprised to feel heat rising up to her face. Brooke mentally slapped herself and shook her attention back to Twycross, who seemed to expect their failed attempts to Apparate.

"Never mind, never mind," said Twycross. "Adjust your hoops, please, and back to your original positions."

Brooke hardly wanted to practice anymore, afraid that each time she would end up colliding into Draco. There was no doubt in her mind that Brooke wouldn't be able to Apparate this first lesson.

"One…two…three!"

Spinning on the spot again, Brooke staggered, but controlled herself from moving further away from her wooden hoop. Theodore Nott didn't have as much luck and fell forward both the second, third and fourth times. Susan Bones screamed from inside her hoop, at what Brooke thought was happiness until she saw Susan's left leg still on the other side.

The Heads of Houses gathered and after a purple smoke, her leg was back in place, but Susan was still horrified.

"Splinching, or the separation of body parts when the mind is insufficiently determined," explained Twycross.

In the next hour, Brooke thought the first splinching scared everyone into focusing, since the lesson went smoothly. As expected, Brooke didn't apparate, nor did anyone in the entire class, however they had another lesson next Saturday.

--

Everyone began to shuffle out of the Great Hall, hurrying to their friends to talk about how difficult apparating was and how close they were to getting it right. Draco headed for the door and Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle enclosed behind him to follow out, with the latter two lagging a bit behind.

He knew they were mad at him for leaving them in the dark about his plans. They should be happy he included them at all. Most of it was all his work anyway and he was already gracious enough to promise them a small mention and credit if he succeeded.

The more Draco thought about it, the angrier he grew at his friends. How could they be complaining when the only one whose life is at stake is his own? Only until they reached the Slytherin dungeon did he realize Pansy was trying to talk to him.

"You're not even listening to me," nagged Pansy. "What's wrong?"

He looked at her and sat down on his usual dark green sofa chair. "Nothing."

Pansy sighed and perched herself on the arm of the chair. Draco slipped his hand out of her grasp and folded his arms instead. She looked clearly stung from his retraction, so much to sink down in an empty space on the couch next to Goyle.

"Nice making a scene in the beginning of the lesson," said Blaise.

"_I _didn't make the scene," said Draco scornfully. "Send your compliments to Crabbe for doing that."

"It wouldn't have happened if you'd tell us what your up to," Crabbe mumbled.

"Excuse me?" said Draco loudly, sitting up in his chair.

For a second Crabbe looked defeated, which was enough to satisfy Draco.

"I said we would appreciate if you let us know why we have to help you do whatever your doing," he said more clearly and more deferential.

"You have to help because I asked it of you," said Draco haughtily.

Draco knew it was a vague answer he wasn't looking for, but knew Crabbe wouldn't ask any further.

"You should've seen how Potter was stumbling around the entire hour," said Pansy minutes later. "I expected he would've splinched just like that HuffleBones did. I wonder what happens if you stayed that way."

"Eventually you lose a lot of blood and collapse until you die," said Blaise. "I had a cousin once- traveling around the deserts to find new perspectives on magical theory. Splinched right across the top of his neck." Blaise drew a line on his own with a finger. "He panicked so much that he couldn't put his concentration on doing anything about it. They found him one day, bodiless."

"That's sick, Blaise," said Pansy with her nose scrunched.

"It's true," he said simply.

"Doesn't matter if its true or not. It's sick," she repeated.

"What's sick about a dumb bloke that wasn't focused enough to Apparate ninety percent of his own body? If you ask me, he was going around the deserts because he had nothing else to do. He was talentless enough to pursue magical theory."

"He was on your father's side wasn't he?" asked Draco.

"Which one?" Blaise gave a dark hollow chuckle.

Draco smiled and shook his head. "Your mother's lucky."

"What do you mean?"

"Each one of her husbands…what is it six of them that died or disappeared?"

"She gets by," smirked Blaise.

"Yes, how is that new vacation home in France?" Pansy raised her eyebrows.

"Great," Blaise gave a toothy grin.

"Well, I'll see you guys later," Draco stood up.

"Where are you going?" asked Pansy.

"Around," said Draco walking up the stairs and out of the room.

He thought of going to the Room of Requirement again, but his feet thought to take a longer route for a change. There was something different about being alone. Being with his friends or even stationary in a common room made Draco feel unproductive and too self aware. His ears had to listen, his eyes had to focus and he needed to know when to jump into a conversation. Alone was something different. He could breathe and think clearly to himself. Draco wasn't exactly alone though. Students scattered all around the castle, the courtyard, the classrooms, and the dormitories leaving no place completely absent. Despite them all, he felt a certain air of solitude and was neither happy nor sad about it. The solitude was his.

It vanished, however, once Draco turned the corner to cross across the courtyard and spotted Brooke and Anthony on a ledge. They sat too close to each other. Anthony's hands laced around hers and the disfigured joining looked pale and frozen.

Brooke stopped in her sentence and caught his eye. She smiled from above her scarf. Anthony stared at him and sighed with his eyes, but Draco was surprised to see him nod unwillingly in his direction.

He returned their silent greeting stiffly and kept walking until he reached the top of the Astronomy Tower.

All day, the weather was gloomy. Around this time the sun would be setting and he would have had the perfect view of it descending into forest, shrinking slowly into the lake. Instead, grey clouds tucked the scene away.

Draco grasped the railing along the edge of the tower. He wanted to beat Anthony and punch him until he became part of the castle walls.

The air chilled him inside and out; it gave him a source to blame for his uneven breathing. Staring out at the lake, Draco saw for a moment, what Brooke saw. The lake wasn't only a lake. It was an escape.

Maybe he could tell her. Maybe she would understand. She didn't need to help him, she could just be there to listen.

He shook his head. He could barely take one simple conversation. Draco took a step away from the railing and slowly walked back into the castle.

--

His blonde head moved further away. The glittering snow had made it look…Brooke wanted to say heavenly but thought it was a strange way to describe him.

"He's often by himself now," she said.

"Guess his friends found out he's a jerk too," said Anthony.

"No, he's not a jerk," she tilted her head. "No doubt he's rough around the edges, but he has good intentions."

"Yeah," Anthony said slowly. "And how was being next to him during Apparation lessons?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Brooke narrowed her eyes.

"Nothing," he raised his eyebrows. "Why? Is it supposed to mean something?"

"No, it just sounded- oh, never mind," sighed Brooke. "I think I was too focused on trying to get into the hoop to notice anyone around me."

"Yeah. I saw you stumble onto Draco the first time everyone tried Apparating."

"Well, I didn't expect to actually get it right. I guess I wasn't _determined_ enough," said Brooke, straying away from what seemed was on Anthony's mind. She pulled out her hands out of his, hoping he didn't notice how clammy they suddenly became.

They stayed outside only for a little bit before surrendering to the cold.

Deeper into the week, Brooke and Hermione sat in the library to work on their Transfiguration essays, despite Brooke's plea to take the rest of the day off and finish tomorrow. She had hoped the Hogsmeade trip would patch things over with Hermione and Ron, since they planned to go for his birthday, but its sudden cancellation brought that to ruin.

Brooke noticed a pattern in Hermione's behavior that whenever something disturbed her, she would bury herself in work more than her normal pace. And now they were working on an assignment due three days from now.

"I still don't see why we had to go to the library to write an essay on Animagi. It's the one thing I actually know," said Brooke.

"I know and that just means we don't need to do _that much_ research," she replied, running a finger along the bookshelf.

"What more research do we need? I can tell you the training process, the techniques, registration and everything," said Brooke.

Then, a boy sped past between the rows of books until he spotted the two of them and hurried back.

"Hey, where've you been?" asked Harry. "I've been looking everywhere."

"Why? What's going on?" asked Hermione.

"Ron's been poisoned," said Harry.

Hermione's grip on the _Advanced Human Transfiguration_ tightened before setting it down on the table.

"What do you mean he's been poisoned?" asked Brooke.

"He was eating these chocolates spiked with love potion, so I had to take him to Slughorn for an antidote," Harry explained. "Afterwards, Slughorn poured some of this mead and once Ron drank it, he collapsed and shook and Slughorn stood there in shock. If it hadn't been for the bezoar-"

Hermione made a small moaning noise from behind her lips. From a distance, Hermione would look calm- stiff, but calm. However, the worry, guilt and panic focused in on her wide brown eyes.

"Madam Pomfrey's not allowing anyone in yet," continued Harry.

"He's okay, though, right?" asked Brooke.

"Yeah, I think so. Come on," nodded Harry, walking out of the library and leading them to the Hospital Wing. Ginny was already lingering outside the Hospital Wing.

"Harry, what's going on?" she came up to them. "Dean said you wanted to tell me something happened to Ron."

Harry repeated the ordeal, they went into a full discussion as to how the poison reached Slughorn's mead in the first place. It was wholly agreed that Slughorn had not purposefully wanted to poison Ron, mainly because of how poorly thought out his plan would have been. It would have been illogical of him to choose to poison him right in front of Harry.

"But what if he accidentally switched the two glasses and the one Ron drank was for Harry," suggested Ginny after they walked into the Hospital Wing. The night fell an hour and a half ago and finally, Madam Pomfrey let them in.

"Why would Slughorn want to kill Harry? Just because he's been trying to get an unfavorable memory?" countered Brooke.

"If the poison was already in the mead and Slughorn wasn't the one who put it there, maybe it was meant to kill Slughorn," said Ginny.

"So, someone who completely hates Slughorn?"

"Malfoy," said Harry suddenly. "Do you think-"

"No," said Brooke bluntly.

"He hates Slughorn because he didn't invite him to his club," continued Harry without losing his enthusiasm.

"No," Brooke shook her head.

"He'd act irrationally. He's already tried killing someone once this year."

"No,"

"Or its part of his mission," said Harry, his face coming to a realization.

"No,"

"I remember Slughorn said the Death Eaters were constantly trying to recruit him. That's why he was hiding when Dumbledore and I first got there. Malfoy's a Death Eater and now he has to take Slughorn out for turning against them!"

"No…no…no, Harry!" said Brooke. "If that were true and your theory about Katie Bell being cursed, then why would Draco want to give Slughorn a _necklace_?"

"I don't know. All he had to is touch the thing and it would kill him. Katie could've just thrown it on him."

Brooke rolled her eyes.

"You said Slughorn was going to give the bottle as a gift," spoke up Hermione. She hadn't said a word since they were at the library and now sounded like she had a stuffy nose. "You said he was going to give it to Dumbledore. Katie said she was going to give the necklace to Dumbledore."

"Someone's got it out for Dumbledore," said Brooke.

"There's plenty of people out there who'd like to do him in," said Ginny.

"But this one doesn't really think out their plans. Both attempts weren't exactly ingenious and ended up failing miserably," pointed out Hermione.

"Malfoy," Harry said again.

Brooke wanted to cover his mouth with her hand. It had become his favorite word and Brooke was getting more and more irritated each time he blamed the poor boy.

"Well, we don't know that," said Hermione.

"Er-my-nee," croaked Ron.

They immediately fell silent and watched him.

"'ermione," he said again, more softly. He fidgeted around in the sheets for a little before beginning to snore again. Hermione stared at him in what Brooke thought looked like hopeful curiosity. She blinked as if waking from a light slumber and acted on a brave impulse to reach out for his wrist. Holding it comfortingly, Hermione let loose a shadow of a smile on her face.

The Hospital Wing doors burst open and Lavender Brown in pigtails that made her pouting face look more childish than anything, came rushing towards Ron's bed.

"Won Won! Won Won!" she gasped. "Why didn't anyone tell me- _what is going on!?_"

For a second Hermione examined her in amusement and confusion, before quickly letting go of Ron's wrist.

"_What are you playing at?!_" repeated Lavender more shrilly.

"What?" asked Hermione.

"You were holding his hand," she pointed at Hermione. "Oh, don't act like I didn't see it!"

"You're being very loud, you know. He needs rest," Hermione stood up from her chair.

"I _know_ he needs rest," she mocked. "I don't need you to tell me about my Won Won. You're just trying to steal him from me!"

"You are way over your head," exclaimed Hermione.

"Oh, please! You haven't spoken in weeks and you think you can wedge yourself in just because he's interesting now?"

"Interesting? He's been poisoned, you _daft_ bimbo!" retorted Hermione, amused at this frantic spectacle.

Expecting Lavender to burst into an argument, she gave a deadly look at Hermione before bumping her aside to stand right next to Ron.

"Won Won," Lavender whispered loudly. "Won Won, don't worry."

Ron began to stir again.

"Her…mione," he breathed.

Lavender made a single high pitched sobbing gasp. She looked up at Harry, Ginny and Brooke to check whether or not they had heard the exact same thing. Then, she hurried out of the room in the same rush as she came in, leaving an echo of cries.

Triumphant, Hermione sat back down in her chair and this time, more confidently grasped Ron's hand.

By now, Brooke was beaming, nearly bouncing up and down that not only were the two going to start talking again, but after so long, they might finally admit their feelings.

"I think we should leave these two alone," smirked Ginny at Harry and Brooke.

On their way out the door, Brooke kept glancing back and smiling at Hermione. Ginny said she was going to see Dean and left she and Harry.

"Do you think they'll get together after this?" asked Brooke excitedly as the two walked.

"Dunno," he said. "Maybe. It'll be a lot quieter without their bickering, though."

"Or a lot more bickering," she replied.

Harry then, held her back and put a finger to his lips. Someone was headed up the stairs, slowly but sulkily.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered, catching the familiar face of Draco.

"I'll meet you in the common room," he told her. Without a second thought, Brooke followed him in his silent stalk.

Draco walked all the way up to the seventh floor passing by the portrait of the Fat Lady and a familiar looking suit of armor. In order to keep themselves from being heard or seen, she and Harry strayed a little ways away from him and, suddenly lost track of Draco. They stood in front of a plain wall.

"Where'd he go?" asked Brooke, looking around and behind them.

"He's in the room of requirement," said Harry. "I can't believe I didn't think of it! That's where he's been going off to all the time."

"You've been spying on him?" Brooke raised her eyebrows.

"Only on the Marauder's Map," Harry waved it away, "but he's been completely missing on it sometimes, and I thought I just missed him out of the dots, but no. The room of requirement isn't even on the map."

"Why would he be in there all the time?"

"No idea," said Harry. "It could be anything."

"Yeah. He could be using it for something like a bathroom or quiet study room," suggested Brooke.

Harry turned to her. "You don't really think that, do you?"

"No, of course not. I just didn't want you to hop on another line of conclusions," said Brooke, crossing her arms.

"What if I'm right?"

"What if you're wrong?" said Brooke stubbornly as they headed back to the common room. "Even Dumbledore said there were people wreaking havoc and trying to get into Hogwarts. That's why there are Aurors around. You don't think they would've noticed Draco doing dark magic by now?"

"They didn't do a great job at preventing Katie being cursed or Ron being poisoned," he said.

They day tired them both out and their argument died with the fire in the common room. By the time Hermione quietly crawled through the portrait hole, Brooke and Harry were practically asleep in the armchairs.

The three stayed up only a few minutes longer discussing Hermione and Ron, even though Hermione denied any suggestion at them being together. She said he was still asleep the entire time since they left and claimed it was quite boring sitting there watching him.

Brooke held her tongue, although, it was difficult to not notice the pleasant air around Hermione, especially after her lingering bitterness when she and Ron were fighting.

* * *

**A/N: **I think I'm the one excited for the next chapter :) And I hope you liked this one. The song's partly in celebration of Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland coming out tomorrow, since one of the great songs on the soundtrack. Anyway, hopefully you notice some patterns and changes going on. And of course, keep reviewing! I really appreciate each one of them. :)


	12. Say Its True

_Do you remember when we didn't care?_  
_ We were just two kids_  
_ That took the moment when it was there_

_We'd lie awake but dream_  
_ Until the sun would wash the sky_

_Talk to me_  
_ I'm throwing myself in front of you_  
_ If this could be the last mistake_  
_ That I would ever wanna do_  
_ Yeah, all I ever I do is give_  
_ It's time you see my point of view_

_I'm sorry_  
_ So what?_  
_ That you don't think I've said enough_  
_ I'm sorry_  
_ I don't care_  
_ You were never there_

_Just as soon as I see you_  
_ I didn't lie_  
_ But didn't I tell you?_  
_ As deep as I need you_  
_ You wanna leave it all_

_ What can I do?_  
_ Say it's true_  
_ Or everything that matters breaks in two_  
**I'll never ask for anyone but you.**

**[Another Heart Calls by The All American Rejects ft. The Pierces]**

* * *

"And I want you all to make at least five tarot card readings for Tuesday," said Professor Trelwany as the students began to pack up their textbooks and quills.

"So then we got to a dead end and he was gone, but it turned out to be the Room of Requirement, which didn't help at all to figure out what he's doing. And it doesn't have to be something suspicious; it could change into anything," finished Brooke.

By the end of the Divination, she realized she was talking about Harry's theory on Draco the entire class period and Anthony had to listen to all of it. "Erm, anyway, how are you?"

"I gotta go to Herbology," said Anthony, soon getting lost into the crowd of students getting to class.

"Oh, yeah, okay," said Brooke, watching him walk away.

The rest of the month seemed to pass smoothly forward, despite Harry being hit again by a bludger and sent to the Hospital Wing. More and more he's been getting obsessed over finding out about Draco. He checked the Marauder's Map at every chance he got and Brooke wasn't being any helpful to stop it. She moved next to Harry when he pulled open the map a late night in the empty common room.

"Spot him?" asked Harry, scanning the large spotted parchment.

"Nope," said Brooke.

"That's unhealthy," said Hermione, pouring over their essays for corrections and pushing up her glasses. "And Harry still needs to get that memory. Dumbledore can call for you at any time."

"Since when did you start wearing glasses?" asked Ron from the opposite side of her table.

"I've always had them. I only use them when it gets a little blurry. But I don't like wearing them at all; they make me look…funny," she said, turning pink.

"No they don't. You look nice," said Ron.

A second fell between them before Hermione awkwardly smiled and immediately forced herself back into the essays.

She and Ron became much more friendly after Ron being poisoned and even more so after Lavender broke up with Ron. He hardly remembered anything since he collapsed in Slughorn's office, but didn't mind Lavender's absence at all.

Then, Harry stuck his finger out on the table.

"There," he said. "He's just in his dormitory."

"Nothing particularly strange about that," said Brooke.

"Guess not," Harry folded up the map and stuck in back in his bag. "Have you noticed how he looks like he's getting sicker every day?"

Brooke nodded.

"He's been far from his normal self this entire year," pondered Harry. "No pushing around first years or strutting around the halls."

"I really don't think you two should be focusing all your time on Malfoy," said Hermione.

"We're not," said Harry.

"But you still haven't gotten Slughorn's memory, or have come up with a plan to do so."

"I'm working on it," said Harry.

"That's what you said about the dragon egg," she said with a very Hermione-ish look about her.

"But he did manage to get through that one," said Brooke.

"Barely," she scathed and the scratching of her quill followed.

The week had been a slow one with their classes being nothing more than a droning of lectures and patterns of charts and essays. Brooke and Anthony wandered off to a tree where they usually sat under to relax and get fresh air.

Spotting an unfavorable group of Slytherin girls, Brooke suggested to stay somewhere else, instead of placing herself in a guaranteed situation of annoyance and boiling anger.

"You're letting her get to you," said Anthony, pushing her towards the tree and closer to the gang of girls. "Just ignore her."

Unwillingly, Brooke sat down, keeping her eyes carefully on them and Pansy Parkinson like a prey watching its predator in the distance.

"Relax, will you? She's not doing anything," said Anthony, putting down his book.

Although still convinced Pansy would walk over and say something, Brooke tore her eyes away and put her head on Anthony's shoulder. She closed her eyes, but her ears, on the other hand, were perked to pick up every word.

They were only talking about the unfortunate accident the third year Hufflepuff Eleanor Branstone had with a love potion gone astray. The story ended in thoroughly embarrassing proclamation of love to a seventh year Slytherin in the Great Hall. By the way they spoke, Brooke was certain the 'accident' was purely of their own plans to satisfy their boredom.

"You know what else I heard?" said Parkinson, loudly. "I heard someone tried to drown herself in the lake."

Brooke's eyes flung open and her head lifted slowly off of Anthony's shoulder. A squeeze from his hand meant to tell her to stay calm, but it wasn't working.

"Who?" asked one of her friends.

"That Brooke Miller, of course. Right before the holidays," smiled Pansy, now staring straight at Brooke. "And if you ask me, she's only done it because she knew Draco was completely mine now. Just yesterday, he said he loved me."

The girls gaggled around her, clutching their mouths and giggling. Parkinson stood in the middle of them, still facing Brooke with a smug expression.

"Brooke!" yelled Anthony, reaching for her wrist.

But Brooke was already sprinting towards Parkinson with her wand extended. Quickly, the Slytherin girl reacted with her own wand arm, sending a spell and missing by a few inches.

"Locomotor Mortis!" yelled Brooke.

Parkinson jumped behind one of her friends and the jet of light hit her instead, causing her legs to stick together and fall awkwardly backwards.

A jelly fingers curse headed straight for Brooke and without thinking, she transfigured into her Animagus, planning to finally be able to ambush Pansy, to tear that pug face to pieces.

But as she leaped, one of her leg muscles tightened and her jump fell halfway. That's what happens when she didn't practice for months. Back to human, she opened her eyes and Snape stood towering over her. Parkinson had time to stash away her wand and hastily place herself in a defeated position on the grass.

"Fighting, are we?" he said.

"As was Parkinson, Professor," said Brooke.

"Perhaps I would believe you if it were not for Miss Davis struggling on the floor and Miss Parkinson clearly in a fear of what I expect was your Animagus charging to attack her," said Snape.

"I didn't do it for no particular reason," defended Brooke and tried to speak in the politest sense. "She provoked me, Professor."

"And yet the most mature decision you thought to make had been a means of violence," he hissed with amusement.

"But I wasn't the only one in the wrong-"

"One week's detention," said Snape, ignoring her. "And fifty points from Gryffindor for misconduct and improper use of your Animagus. Next time I see your little tiger in use for things other than practice, I'll be sure to report it to the Improper Use of Magic Office."

Groaning, Brooke sat up and massaged her leg.

"Better be careful next time, Miller," said Parkinson, kicking Brooke's wand and leading her group of girls away.

Anthony helped her stand up and handed over her wand.

"Can you believe her?" said Brooke, staring angrily at the back of Pansy's brown bobbing hair.

"I can't believe both you of you," Anthony shook his head.

"Me?" exasperated Brooke. "I just got fifty points taken away because of Parkinson!"

"Exactly. You didn't have to acknowledge her. You could've just ignored her like I told you to," he scolded.

"That's the same thing as letting her win," replied Brooke grudgingly.

"No, its not. Parkinson will always be a loser because its Parkinson. You, on the other hand, could've handled it better, like the person I know you are."

"So, you wanted me to just sit and take it?" said Brooke.

He sighed and walked over to the tree to pick up his book.

"You know," Brooke continued, "there's only one way she could have known what happened and I cannot believe that idiot even told her!"

"Who?" he asked.

"Draco, of course! The only ones that knew were you, Hermione, Harry, Ron and him. I can't believe he would tell her," she muttered.

"Well, she is his girlfriend," replied Anthony.

"Hardly," she laughed bitterly. "In the wide scope of things, obviously I'm his-"

"You're what?" Anthony narrowed his eyes and his face hardened.

"He knew I wouldn't want anyone to know, especially her!" covered Brooke, focusing her gaze elsewhere. "Of course, she'd use it against me."

"_You're his what_?" he said again, even more sharply.

"That's not what I meant," said Brooke, unable to think of anything else to say.

He paused for a second. "You were going to say girlfriend, weren't you?"

Brooke opened her mouth.

"You were going to say you were his girlfriend," he said accusingly.

"I was not!"

"Yes, you were," he said.

"No, I-"

"And now you're lying to me!"

"Anthony!" Brooke exasperated, frustrated that he wouldn't let her get a word in.

He sighed and then spoke in a low voice. "I really like you. I really like you, Brooke and I think that's why I've never addressed it to you. I didn't want to accuse you of anything."

Her insides froze stiff. He knew. He knew better than she did.

"What are you talking about?" she blinked, trying to avoid and stall as much as possible.

"I'm talking about Draco!" he said impatiently. "About the way you look at him and are always talking about him. _Always_. Sometimes I feel like I'm your best friend listening to you go on and on about some boy you're infatuated with and I think you think so too."

"You're wrong," Brooke brushed past him.

"No, now I'm certain that there's something going on between you and Draco Malfoy," he said.

She scoffed and faced him. "There is nothing going on between me and and Draco."

"Are you sure? Because I don't think you realize how often you stare at him in the corridors or during classes. And with talking to you, it's always about him walking off to random parts of the castle. Or how you feel bad for him and how hard it is to talk to him now. _And_ _you were just about to say you were his girlfriend_!"

"I didn't say that!" said Brooke, frustrated.

"But you want to be his girlfriend, don't you?" Anthony stepped closer to her face, reading every line of truth and doubt in her eyes.

"No, I don't," she said firmly.

"Then why have you been acting so strange around him, lately?"

"I used to go out with him, if you hadn't known," defended Brooke. "Of course it would be awkward!"

"It's not even awkward, it's- it's like you're still in love with him!"

"I am not!" her voice sounded hoarse.

"Fine," he said simply. "Then say it. All of it. That you don't love Draco Malfoy."

"This is ridiculous!" Brooke shook her head and turned away from him.

"Why? Because you can't say it?" he held his arms out at his sides.

"No, because you should trust me!" she shouted.

"I have trusted you and if its true, this should be no problem," he said with bitter doubt.

"It won't be because I can easily say it," she said defiantly, crossing her arms.

"So say it then!" said Anthony.

"I don't love Draco," She stopped suddenly and gulped.

Anthony's eyes were a soft color of blue. It only took an instant to realize how badly she wanted them to be grey. Her slowly flooding, but never spilling eyes darted away from his and they both knew what she said was a lie.

A quiet wind blew through the trees and through the grass. It was the only thing moving.

Brooke opened her mouth again, about to speak, but drew a breath and shut it closed.

Anthony didn't yell or shout, but he stared at her. And then he turned around and began to walk away with his hand rubbing his neck.

Brooke hated the sun for shining, for the birds to be flying around and the flowers waking up from their long wintry death.

"Wait," she began to say weakly.

He turned back around to face her.

"Did you ever get over him? Because I was- for almost six months," Anthony continued in fragments. "And to think that you were still hung up on someone else. I can't help but think you used me as a distraction."

Brooke shook her head. Her mouth still seemed to be trying to say the rest of her statement.

"Because you knew you couldn't be with Draco. Instead you had to settle for me," he said.

"No. And no, I'm not…in love with him," Brooke trailed off.

"Brooke!" Anthony exclaimed and then his tone quieted. His fingers enclosed around her wrist. "Will you quit lying to me… and Draco and all your friends?"

Her mouth stood open and Brooke avoided his stare at all costs, despite the tiny distance from his face.

"And if you can't do that, the least you can do is admit it to yourself."

His fingers withdrew, taking away the black ribbon bracelet.

Too many words banged around in her head like each vein pulsating through her body. Anthony was walking away. She could have gone after him, but there was no point to it.

Then, she wondered how many other people knew about the secret she deeply hid away from herself. How did they all know when Brooke barely did?

The wind gently blew through her, making her feel light and fragile, expecting to fly away with it like a fallen leaf.

It took what felt like a half hour to wake Brooke from her stare. The sun was dipping into the lake and the wind picked up a cold chill. She walked and found the corridors void of the usual scatter of students, but Brooke remembered it must have been around dinner time and they would all be in the Great Hall.

Somehow the corridors had always felt like this, even when they were filled with students and chatter. They always felt empty. So it didn't matter whether or not Brooke was alone or surrounded. It didn't change a thing to the solitude the halls came with.

Then in one sight, that solitude vanished. But Brooke soon made sense of the disconnected thoughts in her head and it all seemed to trail back to the familiar boy on the other end of the hall.

"You're really something, you know that?" she said to him.

Draco wheeled around and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"All year you've been wandering around, all nonchalant when I'm nearly insane trying to you figure you out and figure me out," said Brooke. "And I don't know why it's taken me this long to realize that it's your fault."

"Excuse me?" he said, striding quickly towards her.

"You just had to be brooding around the castle so suspiciously," she said, stiffening up under his intimidating advance.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, restraining his temper.

"Of course not," she said louder, "Anthony broke up with me because of you."

He almost had a smile forming on his mouth, but mixed with the demeaning stare, Brooke felt pathetic. "And you're blaming me?" he said slowly.

"Yes," she said now more doubtful of her reasoning. "You had to tell Parkinson?"

"Tell her what?" he furrowed his eyebrows.

"About me going into the lake," she said angrily. "And you knew I hated her-"

"I never told her anything about that," he interrupted.

"There's no other way she could have found out," said Brooke.

"Well, I didn't tell her," he said more strongly. "It's not something I knew you wanted to spread around."

"Since when did you care anything about me?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. His face was inches from hers. The tiny impulse to quickly move forward and kiss him only beat harder the anger she felt towards him.

"You didn't care when you got with Parkinson or when you knew my father'd been killed or even when you broke up with me," said Brooke, knowing her voice had gotten shaky. "The_ reasons _why you broke up with me were never clear."

"I told you my father-"

"You're father has nothing to do with how you felt about me!" said Brooke sharply.

"It doesn't matter because it wouldn't have worked either way, so there's no point," said Draco, his voice traveling in the halls.

"It _would've_ mattered. I was so confused for a long time and you hardly cared!"

"What did you want me to do? Check up on you every week?" he said sarcastically.

"You could have just told me how you felt! Because your only reason was your father and if that _was_ the only reason that would have meant nothing changed in what you thought of me," said Brooke. "But obviously it did what with you snogging Parkinson."

"Do you think that it would have been easy to tell you that I didn't love you anymore?" he retorted.

She didn't know why she was so surprised; she didn't know why she was disappointed, especially since she just said it herself. Of course he didn't love her. He loved Parkinson.

"No," she sneered, "but like always, you took the easy way out."

"At that point I couldn't keep considering your feelings," he said seriously. Brooke didn't expect the lack of ridicule and haughtiness, finding it harder to muster up enough contempt to slander every word he out of his mouth.

"Obviously," she said, staring at him hard. "And for some strange reason I really thought you could change, but you're still so centered around yourself that you don't think of anyone else."

"I'm always thinking about someone other than me," he exclaimed, knowing he wasn't the one being selfish.

Brooke laughed. "Are you kidding? Like who?"

_You!_ Draco wanted to yell in her face. He couldn't believe how judgmental she was being instead of how grateful she should be. For a moment, he was tempted to confess everything, just to spite her. Then, she'd be sorry.

Brooke shook her head. "You're no better than your father," she said quietly.

Realizing he wasn't going to respond, Brooke pulled her face away from his.

"Great, because it wasn't luck that he got to walk away from the fight," he said loudly just as she faced the opposite direction. "Unlike your blood traitor father that hardly knew a thing he was doing."

Staring back at his defiant expression, her arm screamed to punch it, but she kept it down.

"My father did know what he was doing, just like I know what I'm doing." Brooke began to angrily take the ring off her little finger. "So, I don't need any of your help. _You_," she said, slamming the ring into his chest, "on the other hand, need more saving than I do."

As soon as she turned around, the solitude draped heavily around her again and despite the empowerment she showed him by stomping away, Brooke felt like she was going to be sick.

Seven staircases was a long way to go and it took that amount of time for Brooke to drain her sinuses. It held in almost three months of build up and ten months of kidding herself.

Brooke shook her emotions away and took a deep breath. It wasn't that bad. No, there was far worse going on than this. Harry's life is in perilous danger and Voldemort is out there now, finding a way to shake up both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds until there's hardly any resistance and any hope.

It didn't work. Focusing on these bigger issues only made her head spin even faster. And if Harry was right and Draco was taking his father's place, Draco was in perilous danger too. It used to be easier to hate him. She didn't feel sorry for him and she didn't have to try so hard to not like him.

Brooke held her head in her hands, wanting to scream at the top of her lungs. Was she really going to admit it now?

_Admit._

Admit was the word. She loved him all this time and all she had to do was admit it. Nothing changed except her strong resistance to herself. But like Draco said, it wouldn't change a thing. It didn't matter if she loved him still or the miraculous chance that he loved her back. It was all pointless.

She groaned. And she had to drag Anthony into it. He could have had a relationship with one of the nicer, less confused Ravenclaw girls. She would be as smart as him and as caring and as sweet. Not like Brooke. But now Anthony was somewhere in the castle feeling cheated and hating her, just like Draco hated her.

Then, the portrait hole opened and Brooke raised up her head, frantically wiping her face.

"Brooke, where were you?" asked Hermione. She stopped and took in the scene of the puffy eyed, distraught looking girl curled up on the couch. "What happened?"

Harry and Ron followed her, quiet, but gathering around Brooke. She was grateful, since it almost acted as a barrier for her, just in case that incredibly drastic side of her suddenly came out.

Brooke opened her mouth to explain, but she didn't know where to start.

"Erm," she began. "Well, I got into a fight with Parkinson-"

"Yeah, we heard her going off about it in the Great Hall and thought we should find out where you've gone to," said Ron.

"I don't know how she found out, but now everyone's going to know."

"Hardly any of them'll ask you about it, though," said Harry. "And those who do will probably forget about it if you ask them to."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Brooke mumbled, moving into a more comfortable position on the couch.

"But that's not the reason why you look so down, is it?" asked Hermione, who tentatively watched her as if expecting Brooke to jump out and head straight into the fire or jump out of a window.

"No. After, I got into a fight with Anthony, who broke up with me," said Brooke, oddly calm.

Hermione gave a small sympathetic sigh.

"But the strangest thing is that I don't think I'm all that upset about it as much as how much I started yelling at Draco," continued Brooke, whose cheeks started to heat up because she suddenly realized how impulsive she had been. "I blamed him for everything and gave him his ring back…"

"What ring?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, right," said Brooke, forgetting she never told them about it. "It's sort of a long story, but he gave me a ring last year and I didn't think anything of it until we were at the Department of Mysteries. I got hit with a spell and it didn't do anything to me. Instead, it kind of passed through and ended up inside the ring somehow. Back at the Hospital Wing, Draco used his wand to take it out and I don't know if you remember, Harry, but that's why there was such a loud bang when he fell backwards."

"Why didn't you tell us, then?" asked Harry.

"I don't know. I guess I kind of forgot about it with everything else going on."

"Forget that kind of magic?" asked an astonished Hermione. "I've only read about charming artifacts that absorb magic instead of repel it. It's supposed to have been really advanced magic."

"Well, I'm sure he didn't do it himself," said Brooke. "I'm sure he bought it or something."

"That must have cost a fortune," she said.

"And you just gave it back to him?" said Ron, his eyes wide.

"I wasn't going to keep it. I'm still surprised I kept it on for so long," replied Brooke.

"Why do you think you still wore it all this time?" asked Hermione, who seemed to know the answer to that for herself.

"I promised," Brooke said quietly, but quickly added, "But also because it was supposedly characterized against one person- his father and after him breaking out of Azkaban and killing my father, I thought maybe it would be a good idea to wear it."

Hermione had her eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"Sounds like a horrible day for you," said Ron after a few minutes.

"Hmph," Brooke snorted.

* * *

**A/N: Yay for another chapter done :) I hope this one kept you interested and that you have a lot to review about ;) So pleease review and of coruse, keep reading. About the song choice for this chapter, it's one of my favorite songs and if you haven't heard it, it's a duet between a guy and girl basically. It really fit the content, obviously and describes mostly the dynamics between Draco and Brooke at this point.**

{don't forget to click that button down there} ;)


	13. Snakes Eating Lions

_Just let it die_  
_ With no goodbyes_

_Now everytime I see you_  
_ I pretend I'm fine_  
_ When I wanna reach out to you_  
_ But I turn and I walk and I let it ride _

_And if she's got your head all messed up now_  
_ That's the trickery_  
_ She'll wanna have like you know how this lovin' used to be_

_Boy, you'll always be in my heart_

_There's only one me and you_  
_ And how we used to shine_

_Nothing can compare to your first true love_  
_ So I hope this will remind you_  
_ When it's for real, it's forever_  
_ So don't forget about us_

_Forever we'd both regret._

**[Don't Forget About Us by Mariah Carey]**

* * *

As expected, Parkinson's news had traveled over two days and Brooke got the first wave of it in the form of Slytherin jeers and comments. The most, of course, came from Parkinson herself, who was still displeased from being almost pounced on by Brooke's Animagus.

"I think Myrtle would have enjoyed your company if you didn't come back from the lake," she said, passing by Brooke's table in Divination. "You're both quite whiny as it is."

For the sake of the already low Gryffindor points, Brooke held her tongue and breathed in.

"Lay off, Parkinson," said Anthony, walking into the classroom behind her.

She gave him a look of disgust and proceeded to her own table.

"Thanks," smiled Brooke.

The muscles in his face could barely form a smile and Brooke knew he was still mad at her, especially from his silence the entire period.

She wanted to thank him again for still sitting with her instead of leaving her alone, but couldn't bring herself to say anything at all. His serious expression and silent nature summed up any kind of response he would have given her.

Draco, on the other hand, has been avoiding her the entire year. That should've made everything easier. Yet, every time he popped around, her head replayed their heated conversation like uncontrollable flashbacks. Along with admittance came the heavy chains of self disapproval whenever she found herself wishing they were back together and the disappointment when he passed by without a word.

She knew he wouldn't want to talk to her and she accepted that these things will pass and painfully. This is what it's supposed to feel like.

Hermione had reacted quickly this time, leaving Brooke no time alone to herself and no hesitating in asking questions. Scared of herself, Brooke went along with it.

"He's still ignoring me," reported Brooke during their Transfiguration class. Professor McGonagall sent them from the usual attentiveness to practice changing human characteristics into that of animals. Brooke found it a much more tedious and difficult task compared to her ease in human transfiguration by Animagus.

Finding more time on her hands, Brooke started Animagus practice every other day, whether it was a run around the grounds in the morning or partial transfiguration in the common room or her dormitory.

"I mean I don't blame him," continued Brooke. "I'd act worse if it were me."

"He won't be like that forever," said Harry. "It'll wear off in a couple days. And I doubt Anthony's someone to hold a grudge."

"Hopefully." Brooke finally managed to change Harry's nose into a bear snout.

"So, how are feeling about Draco?" asked Hermione, who had her wand pointed straight at Ron's face. His eyes looked cross eyed, trying to see whether or not his nose had changed too.

Brooke sighed. She hated these new blunt questions. "I don't see how I could hate him so much and still be bothered whenever he's with Parkinson. It doesn't make any sense."

"I think it's safe to say that you were never in love with anyone before Draco and it would be hard to see him around anyone else," said Hermione.

"If it takes this long for it to stop, I think I'd rather not be falling around for any more guys," said Brooke.

"Not all of us are bad," said Ron. Oddly enough, the fox like nose now taking up the bottom of his face fit well with his shade of hair.

"Ron's right," said Hermione, tilting her head to get a look at Ron's transfigured face. "You shouldn't give up entirely."

The pleasant expressions on her two friends' faces as they looked at each other made Brooke smile. The gradually apparent likeness toward one another was at least one thing going right at Hogwarts. The other was when she glanced at Harry and the immediate understanding they shared without words.

Hours later, instead of going down for dinner, Harry led them to a table in the common room to tell them about his meeting with Dumbledore. Nearly everyone was at the Great Hall and whispers weren't needed.

The first thing Harry said was he and Dumbledore recognizing Brooke's locket in the memory. It had been Salazar Slytherin's.

"Dumbledore said he first recognized it last year in the Hospital Wing, but didn't find much importance of it until he found the memory," finished Harry.

"That doesn't _really_ mean a thing," said Brooke, staring at the locket after having to run up to the dormitory to grab it.

"Voldemort was trying to get at it, of course it means something," said Harry.

"You said he wanted everything that was from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Maybe he only wanted to collect it or something," suggest Brooke lamely. "I don't know, I mean, there's not much you can derive from it belonging to Slytherin."

"Except that Malfoy's filthy rich for buying you that and the ring," said Ron.

"Did Draco know it was Slytherin's?" asked Hermione.

"No, he would've been bragging about it," replied Brooke.

"Then, I don't think he bought it," she said. "The seller would have emphasized who it belonged to in order to make a heartier profit."

"Reckon someone gave it to him without knowing?" suggested Harry.

"Possibly," Hermione frowned. "But I don't see how something this valuable could be forgotten and end up in Draco's hands."

"Maybe he stole it," said Ron.

Brooke shot him an annoyed look.

"What? You don't think he'd help himself to a golden locket lying around?"

"For one, he's 'filthy rich,'" retorted Brooke.

"You have to ask him where he found it," said Harry, running his fingers over the locket. "Wait, what's this?"

Turning the locket over on its back, Harry ran his thumb along the engraved lion.

"Oh, I think he added that," said Brooke, criticizing her suddenly warm cheeks.

"I don't think Slytherin would have put a Gryffindor symbol on it and telling from the sloppy wand work, you're probably right," said Hermione.

"I can't go up and ask him," Brooke shook her head. "It's hard enough being in the same room with him."

"I'd ask him myself, but he's not likely to tell me," said Harry.

"He's not going to tell me either," said Brooke. "He hates me, remember?"

"It's not just me who needs to know, but Dumbledore too," pointed out Harry.

Brooke groaned. The thought of her having to talk face to face with Draco made her stomach cringe. He wasn't going to listen to her. If anything, Brooke would have to relive the same awkwardness in Diagon Alley where she was flat out ignored after calling for him. Only this time, people would be around to see it.

The easiest way to approach such an unfavorable task was doing it by surprise. Had Brooke tried planning it, she knew she would be ten times more pressured and maybe even nervous just in the anticipation.

Right when Slughorn dismissed them, Brooke left herself to impulse and threw her belongings in her bag as quickly as she could. Heading up the dungeon stairs, Brooke saw Draco a few people ahead of her. Once they came up to the opening of the first floor, Brooke quickened her pace and got herself a few feet away, just enough for her to reach out her arm and tap him on the shoulder.

"Draco!" called Blaise.

Draco turned his head and the two Slytherin boys converged paths. Brooke suddenly made a change of plans and kept walking forward, away from him. Within seconds her heart rate returned to normal and a disappointed relief came along with knowing she didn't yet have to talk to him.

The following days gave her no luck either and Brooke began to wonder why it suddenly became difficult to get Draco alone when only a week ago, he wasn't around his friends at all.

Snape's detentions lessened her time as well. He suggested a thorough reorganizing of the Potions ingredient stockroom, and as interesting as Brooke initially thought, it turned to be quite opposite. Monday detention had been the least boring, since Brooke dived into taking peeks at frozen Ashwinder eggs, which glowed a deep red and moonstones, that reminded Brooke of the mood rings her muggle cousins used to send her. Brooke held on to about five different moonstones with half of them turning a gold shade and the other half didn't seem to work for they simply stayed black.

Except the occasional rare or odd ingredients she came across, most of them were things like rat tails, lacewing flies and a whole variety of plants.

A mental note tacked in her mind, reminding her to tell Anthony. He would love to hear about the ingredients that they hadn't even used in Potions class yet.

Brooke blinked, surprised at her own forgetfulness. After all, she and Anthony had barely spoken in the past few days, except for stale required conversation in Divination.

And where she used to talk with him in Astrology, Brooke found her night classes in the North Tower much quieter and colder. On the positive, her grade went up, an ironic effect of her break up with one of the smartest Ravenclaw boys in the class.

The sudden quality increase in her schoolwork wasn't even from spending her extra time with Hermione, since Brooke had been trying to leave her and Ron alone as much as possible. Sometimes, she would pull Harry away from the common room with an excuse to sneak a snack from the kitchens or fulfill Harry's curiosity of Draco's whereabouts.

A thank you seemed easy enough, Brooke thought back. And if that was as hard as it felt, asking him about the locket after yelling in his face would be excruciating. She would have to suck up every bit of pride left in her and find a way to get the answers out of him.

The no plan approach had no results. It was supposed to keep her head away from dwelling on the matter, but it ended in doing just that. The less she told herself not to plan it, the more she did.

Brooke thought about all this while walking in the corridors on Thursday afternoon. As usual, her inner radar blared when he was anywhere in sight; his movement she honed in on more than anyone else, even against her will. Might as well have a blinking neon arrow pointing straight down at him.

"Draco!" she called, her heart beating unusually fast and her mind trying to cope with the sudden decision to grab his attention. A moment after she opened her mouth did Brooke hope he didn't hear her.

But upon hearing his name, Draco glanced around and spotted her, standing still amidst the moving students.

Relief passed over her when she was stopped, until Brooke recognized the pouting face of Pansy Parkinson unpleasantly placed in front of her. On either side of Parkinson were two Slytherin girls from to form a green fence.

Feet ahead, Draco saw what was happening and walked back in his original direction.

Brooke cursed at him in her head.

"I'm trying to walk here," said Brooke rudely.

"What are you doing, Miller?" asked Pansy. To her, perhaps the high chin and stiff crossed arms would make her appear taller, but it only made a comical attempt in Brooke's perspective.

"Since when do I have to report to you?" retorted Brooke.

"Since it concerns my boyfriend," said Pansy with overly done neck swerves.

"So what? I can talk to him if I want," she smiled just to spite her.

"Not when I know Goldstein shook you off and now you're so obviously in love with _my boyfriend_," said Parkinson, adding intimidation along with her emphasis on the last words.

Brooke boiled inside, ready to wring her neck and whoever else making that assumption.

"I'm not in love with him," she growled, watering down her vengeful thoughts with that of extra detentions and detriments to her house.

"I'll make sure of that," Parkinson replied. A certain spark lit up in her eyes and Brooke knew if Parkinson was to put any effort into anything, it was in defending her beloved boyfriend.

"Good luck," said Brooke simply. "Now move before I kick your arse again."

"Ha!" she screeched. "Is that what you thought you did? Who's the one with detentions to serve?"

"If it hadn't been for Snape-"

"You'd have fallen just the same," said Parkinson.

"Next time, I won't and you won't be so lucky."

"Are you trying to threaten me, Miller?" Parkinson stepped towards her, which hardly did anything to intimidate, since Brooke was a couple inches taller than her.

"If you stay out of my way, it won't have to," said Brooke, pushing her way past the line of Slytherins.

After her little run in, Brooke tried to talk more and more to Draco in comparison and frankly, she had not yet actually spoken to him. In her defense, it was much better than putting it off and avoiding him.

The weak attempts to catch his eye and matching Harry's level of tracking his every move were obviously tied to her anger toward Pansy. It didn't have to relate back to Draco as Hermione often told her. Besides, Brooke was supposed to be asking him about the locket anyway and what better way to make sure he answers than to become friends with him again?

That was precisely her judgment in the Great Hall when she passed by his spot on his Slytherin table. She smiled and waved to him, at which Draco raised an eyebrow reluctantly pursed his lips in place of a smile.

Well, it was an expected response, Brooke told herself.

Taking advantage of this newfound confidence, Brooke stayed behind after eating, not wanting Harry, Hermione and Ron to be there in case it failed.

Luckily, Draco still sat in the same spot. Ignoring the rushing warmth to her face, Brooke walked up to him.

"Hey," she said.

He looked up to her, confused.

"Hi."

"Erm. I wanted to apologize," Brooke began. "I shouldn't have yelled at you and blamed you. If you didn't notice it then, I was a bit distraught."

"That's fine," he said. His pale fingers worked tensely on twisting and twisting the silver fork on the table.

A silent awkward staring occupied the next couple of seconds.

"Right," said Brooke finally. "Well, see you."

Hurriedly, she pulled herself and out of the Great Hall, hoping to leave the oddity of the conversation as far from her as possible.

Brooke exhaled, slowly letting out the breath she was holding in that entire time and then pursing her lips, scolding herself for listening to her relying on impulse. All it did was make her look foolish.

They lined up one by one along the back wall of the Great Hall, waiting anxiously for their turn to test. The goal was simple enough: Apparate fully into the designated spot in Hogsmeade and so far, only two of the seventeen students ahead of her had failed.

Daphne Greengrass moved towards the center of the room, her fingers twisting nervously. She took a deep breath, then in a pirouette like stance, the Slytherin girl turned and disappeared with a loud crack.

Twycross then motioned Brooke, since Draco, Ernie and Neville had their birthdays later in the year and were not able to test. Her stomach clenched nervously.

"When you are ready," said Twycross.

Brooke stood in the room, focused all her attention on the three D's, practically engraving the spot in front of the Three Broomsticks into her mind. Her body squeezed together before a burst of crisp air rushed into her lungs and face. No blood or stinging, meaning she hadn't splinched.

Looking up, she beamed at the worn down Three Broomsticks entrance sign on top of the doorway. Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick, who were monitoring the students apparating out of the castle, both nodded in congratulations. As a reward for the test, the Professors granted them the rest of the time with a butterbeer until all the students were done.

Hermione, who was only two people ahead of her, had just finished ordering a butterbeer and motioned her over. Brooke ordered her own and the two found a table nearby.

"How'd you do?" she asked.

"Passed," Brooke beamed. "You?"

"Same," replied Hermione excitedly. "I wish I'd gone last. It was nerve wracking to stand in front of everyone and hope you didn't leave an entire arm behind."

"Good thing Ron's last name starts with a 'W'" said Brooke.

They spent the next ten minutes talking about what Harry was doing and if he managed to get Slughorn's memory. Right before they left for the Great Hall to test, Harry took out his bottle of Felix Felicis and took a swig of it to add a bit of luck to his task.

"I think he'll be fine," reassured Brooke.

"He went off to Hagrid's," Hermione pointed out.

"If anything, he didn't take the entire potion, so he'll have a second go if he really needs it."

The door opened again and Ron made his way toward their table in heavy steps.

"How did it go?" asked Hermione hesitantly.

"Horrible," Ron growled. "I left one half an eyebrow."

"And they didn't let you pass?" asked Hermione.

"No," he replied angrily. "I thought I'd passed and everything until McGonagall said I splinched my eyebrow hairs. Like that hardly matters."

"That seems really unfair," said Hermione. She pushed her half drunk butterbeer glass towards Ron.

"That's what I said!" exclaimed Ron. "But I still wasn't _determined _enough."

Ron gulped down the drink just in time for them to head back to the castle.

Eager to know what happened with Harry, the three checked the common room, the Great Hall, the library and the courtyard with no luck.

Reaching nightfall, Hermione grew anxious and suggested they check the Marauder's Map just in case, but Ron reassured he was probably having some fun around with the luck he drank.

On their way to the common room, a second year Gryffindor came rushing up to them as fast as her tiny legs could walk without breaking into a run.

"Professor Dumbledore wants to see Brooke Miller," she said, almost out of breath.

Brooke looked at the other two, who were as puzzled as she was.

"And he said to bring your necklace?" said the girl, uncertainly. "Oh, and that he loves Pepper Imps…"

By her face, the young girl second guessed herself if those odd statements were really what Dumbledore had told her.

"Oh, okay, thanks," said Brooke. The three sixth years looked at each other questioningly, but the only way any one of them could get answers was for Brooke to go to Dumbledore's office.

Without waiting any longer, they went to the common room and Brooke nearly sprinted up the stairs to the dormitory. Throwing her extra clothes from her trunk, Brooke reached to the bottom and pulled out the sealed black bag holding the locket.

"What do you think he wants with it?" asked Ron when he saw her coming back down the steps.

"Dunno, but hopefully its nothing bad," she replied, fully skeptical of her own words.

Promising to tell them everything Dumbledore says, Brooke left Ron and Hermione in the common room and made her way to the gargoyle blocking Dumbledore's office.

"Password?" it asked.

"Pepper Imps," said Brooke. "I think."

The gargoyle leapt out of the way, revealing winding stairs. Brooke opened the door and found Harry and Dumbledore in a conversation.

"Harry! There you are," said Brooke.

"Ms. Miller. I'm glad you received my message so quickly," said Dumbledore. "I believe you're wondering why I have called you here along with that necklace of yours."

The bag twitched in her hands.

"Harry has told me you know about us seeing your locket in the pensieve last meeting," continued Dumbledore. "And I thought it urgent for you to be here as we have discovered yet another valuable piece of information thanks to Harry."

"So you got the memory then?" asked Brooke.

Harry nodded. He didn't look like someone who had finally gotten what he'd been needing to, rather, he looked serious.

"Yes and I am grateful, though not surprised, at his success. In that memory, we found exactly what a horcrux is, which I trust Harry had mentioned."

Brooke nodded. "You see, Voldemort is obsessed with immortality and the power of overcoming death. How he does it had puzzled me for years until six years ago, he had attempted to steal the Sorcerer's Stone and it was evident he had been trying to live off another person. The next year had intrigued me the most," said Dumbledore. He unlocked a drawer and pulled out a tattered diary with a gaping hole in the middle.

"Tom Riddle's diary," said Harry.

"Precisely," said Dumbledore, "an object in which a person conceals a part of their soul in order to live in case of death; a horcrux."

"Voldemort mentioned making several of them," said Harry. "He couldn't have-"

"Ah, but that is exactly what I think Harry, which is why I have called Ms. Miller."

Hearing her name alerted her of how close her eyebrows pushed together and her mouth that tipped open slightly. Nothing clicked in her mind as to why she was needed and not knowing instilled a greater fear.

"I have reason to believe that Voldemort's chosen objects are the ancient artifacts which eh desperately craved- that of the four founders of this very school," explained Dumbledore.

The light burst in her head, suddenly realizing what he was getting at, as did Harry, whose eyes shot straight at the pouch in Brooke's hand.

Brooke pushed the pouch to the very tips of her fingers and held it as far in front of her as possible.

"You mean…" said Brooke in shock and disgust.

Dumbledore nodded, holding his hand open. "May I?

Gladly, Brooke put it in his hands, rubbing her own on her robes.

With his blackened hand, Dumbledore opened the bag and gently slid the locket out on his table.

"It intrigued me ever since I saw Madam Pomfrey holding it in the Hospital Wing."

"She was holding it because I told her it burnt me in the Department of Mysteries. It burned when Lucius Malfoy walked up to me," said Brooke.

"I do not believe Lucius had much to do with the locket injuring you, however, I would guess that had taken place around the same time Voldemort showed up in the building," said Dumbledore, examining the locket. "The point of a Horcrux is to safe keep the soul fragment. It is unlikely the locket had been near him at all while it was kept in your possession."

"Voldemort triggered it?" asked Harry.

"Yes, but unknowingly," said Dumbledore. "It is difficult to predict the exact reaction of a Horcrux to its creator, but in this case, it had injured its owner, whom it may have recognized as someone other than Voldemort."

"His soul is in there?" said Brooke slowly, feeling like the only one in tremendous shock that she'd been holding, wearing and growing attached to the case of someone's soul. Perhaps it would not have been as bad if it belonged to anyone other than the wizard out to kill her best friend and is the sole cause of practically everything that made Brooke feel miserable.

"A part of it, yes," said Dumbledore calmly.

"How?" she asked.

"Murder," he said. "Harry and I have, minutes ago, witnessed Professor Slughorn's explanation to the young Lord Voldemort. When a wizard murders, the soul is split and Voldemort used the ripped part to his advantage.

"A soul is something most pure that we can possess," he continued, addressing both she and Harry. "Although it has none of its own thoughts, it is an embodiment of whoever it belongs to. Growing attached to a locket- or any Horcrux creates an open window for the soul to latch onto your own. I am partially to blame for not warning you about my suspicions earlier."

"So I'm not crazy," said Brooke in a half question, uncertain.

Dumbledore smiled gently. "No and even if the locket was not a Horcrux, you are not crazy. It is natural to feel sadness, to feel it overwhelm us to frightening measures. And there are reasons why you hadn't died in the lake."

She nodded, unable to speak with her tightened throat.

"But I didn't feel like I was being possessed," said Brooke. "I remembered everything when I tried going into the lake. I swore I heard voices, but nothing like what happened to Ginny with the diary."

"She was young," he said simply. "And she was much more open to the diary, spilling her deepest secrets to the point where Ms. Weasley was brought out of herself."

Brooke nodded, already understanding. Never would she be so quick to burst out in angry rants or cry openly. She hardly let herself in on what she felt.

"It is not a bad thing to be protective of our own emotions," said Dumbledore as if reading her mind. "But as much as we would like to cast them away, they are with us no matter what."

"I still don't understand why the Horcrux didn't just kill me or even kill Harry, since it was around him so much," said Brooke.

"A Horcrux is merely an instrument to hold the soul. It can never replace the being or think for itself, only throw its influence upon whoever bears it."

Her mind still lay unsettled with the millions of unknown questions she knew she had.

"Out of curiosity," said Dumbledore. "How did you come across this rare necklace?"

Harry's eyes flickered to Brooke, expecting to jump in when she refused to give his name.

"Someone gave it to me as a present two years ago. Malfoy, sir," said Brooke. It seemed like ages ago since then, when Draco didn't even want to put his name on the gift in case someone found out. It stung her to remember how easily it could have been to be together that year, but instead they were much too stubborn. "But I'm certain it was without malicious intent."

Dumbledore nodded, his eyes falling back onto the locket, twisting and turning it in his fingers. "Although, it is not detrimental to the research both Harry and I have been conducting, might I suggest asking Mr. Malfoy how the locket befell upon him?"

"I've been trying to, Professor," sighed Brooke. Her dry mouth opened and closed in indecision whether or not she wanted to ask, or even how to ask. "What's going to happen to him?"

Behind his half moon spectacles, Dumbledore's eyes suddenly seemed to hold in a certain level of understanding, comfort, and a disquieting pity. A remorse. "That, like I believe of all of us, is up to Mr. Malfoy."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing & please keep on doing so. :) I know I skipped a week & I hope this longer chapter makes up for it! I might not post one next week, but I'm writing as quickly as time allows and hopefully I can get a chapter posted next week.**

**Please review! I don't know whether or not to change and improve if you don't tell me :)  
**


	14. Flowering Blood Upon The Water

_I'm not getting along with me_  
_ I can't get my mind to stop working_

_I knew all the blackest blues_  
_ You were all my favorite tunes_  
_ This was all I had to lose_

_Should have known to turn_  
_ Get ahead of the curve but I've learned_  
_ the failure sounds all to familiar to me_

_To my surprise_  
_ I can't fit in anybody's arms_  
_ No more disguise_  
_ Oh you, oh you left just in time_

_As the light_  
_ Darkens again_  
_ I lose myself within_  
_ Cause in the end_  
_ Still I'm reminded_

**[Just In Time by There For Tomorrow]**_  
_

* * *

Later in the night, Brooke felt like she couldn't breathe. Like all her troubling thoughts threw a great weight upon her, but it didn't have to be there. It shouldn't, Brooke thought. Hardly was it her job to protect Draco Malfoy; he's grown, he can do it himself.

Sure, the locket made she, Hermione, Ron and Harry disturbed and restless upon the subject. Once Brooke and Harry reached the common room, they hoarded them with questions. The answers the two gave however, made Ron and Hermione asking more and more, some they could only guess at. But, in the end, that Horcrux was as good as dead.

She didn't have any reason to worry.

Brooke sighed. Pressing the cold side of the pillow against her face and pulling up the blanket, she scrunched her nose. He was an idiot. He was an idiot and all Brooke wanted to do now was help him.

Locket or not, Brooke knew she was crazy.

On their way back from Hagrid's, a certain Slytherin boy and his characteristic blonde hair formed out of the small speck of a person walking a ways away from their path.

"I might as well get this over with," mumbled Brooke. In heavy steps, she strayed away from Harry, Ron and Hermione.

Brooke out of the dirt path, onto the hilly grass covered grounds. This incoming conversation would certainly be as disastrous as her last attempt to talk to him, and probably even worse, nonetheless, she called his name.

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Hey," she tried smiling, wracking her brain for words. "Do you think you could help me with Potions?" Yeah, it was better to ease her way in.

"Why not ask Slughorn? I'm sure he'd be willing to help," said Draco with the most aloof expression he mustered up.

"I didn't want to bug him," shrugged Brooke.

"No, he loves you," he said with eyes plastered to the ground. "Besides, I promised to meet Pansy in a couple minutes."

"Oh, alright," said Brooke, unlatching her clenched teeth. She secretly hoped some dense pebble would rise in midair and launch itself onto Draco's head as he left her.

That arrogant head would think she wanted to talk to him if she made another attempt at a conversation.

No, she _had_ to talk to him. To find out where he got that locket.

Fine. If pride had to be sacrificed for that answer, Brooke knew very well which choice was the obvious.

Getting that opportunity grew even harder over the next few days. With hardly any homework that Saturday, she and Harry spent a lot of time with the Marauder's Map while Hermione dragged Ron off to the library to force him to do his long procrastinated homework.

The entire day, Draco was missing from Castle grounds according to the map.

Harry dragged Brooke along, with less convincing than usual, to keep watch on the corridor where the Room of Requirement should appear. They lasted only an hour, sitting and waiting in a small dip in the wall, so as to avoid suspicion.

"We'll keep the map open, then," said Brooke, getting up from the bench.

"Nevermind. Even if we see him then, we'd be too far away to slip in," said Harry, folding the parchment and tucking it into his back pocket.

Hermione and Ron were still in the library and with Madam Pince walking by the table every other minute to make sure they were silent, she and Harry decided not to stay.

"What if they actually get together?" asked Harry.

"Good for them," smiled Brooke. "It's been ages until they realized it."

Storming in from the courtyard, Ginny greeted them with as much of an acknowledgement as her burning stare could give. Dean, quickly followed, trying to catch up.

"Girls," he said dejectedly, rushing past them.

Harry smiled. Not in the way he would laugh at a joke Dean made, but there was something slightly sinister in it.

"What?" she asked.

He raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"The smile," said Brooke. "What is that?"

"What do you mean? It's a smile."

"Oh, come on, tell me."

"There's nothing to tell," he said, unsuccessful in hiding the delight.

Brooke gasped. "So, Hermione was right."

"Hm?"

"You. And Ginny," she laughed.

He cocked one eyebrow. "I'm going to the bathroom."

"Harry!" Brooke reached for his arm before he turned.

Then, they heard someone else speak from inside the bathroom. It sounded like Moaning Myrtle.

Slowly, Harry pushed open the door to the still tile floored room. The softly clinking footsteps hid behind the sound of running water and a series of gasps.

"No, don't," crooned Moaning Myrtle.

She floated a few feet in the air, resting a her pearly transparent fingers on her equally pale mouth. Next to her was a tall boy, hunched over the running sink, clutching onto its glossy edges.

It took a couple more gasps from the boy for Brooke to realize Draco was crying. She thought she might have run into Moaning Myrtle, but the sudden cold chill that washed over her was not from the ghostly girl.

Not whining, not complaining, but Draco was crying. His grayish tinge practically blended in with the bathroom walls. Even his platinum blonde hair seemed to have lost its normal sheen and with every shaking gasp, his hands gripped harder, losing color.

Draco's eyes glanced up at the mirror, growing wide once he spotted Brook and Harry watching in the background. In one swift turn, Draco grabbed his wand, swung his arm and sent a spell right in between the two.

Brooke jumped out of the way, snatching up her own wand, however, knowing no other spell but a shield charm would pass her lips. Looking behind her, both Harry and Draco disappeared from sight, but their footsteps echoed in the bathroom.

"Aah! Stop!" screamed Myrtle. She flew higher into the air to no particular direction.

Stepping carefully, Brooke headed to the sink closest to the stalls and backed into it, so no one would pop up behind her. For a few moments, she heard nothing.

Then, a stall door slammed open somewhere deeper in the bathroom and shocked her nerves alive. Peering into the line of stalls on her left, Brooke saw Harry run quickly toward her from the circularly arranged urinals and closely dodged a spell.

Instead, it headed straight for Brooke. Quickly, she ducked and heard the shatter of the mirror on the far wall behind her. Harry ran all the way into the very last row of stalls, again disappearing except for his footsteps.

"No! Stop it!" Myrtle kept shrieking.

The sounds of spells ricocheting off the walls and burst pipes from the toilets interrupted Myrtle's high pitched pleas.

Footsteps grew louder and louder from the furthest lane of stalls and out came Draco running toward the door. About to run to stop him, Brooke furrowed her eyebrows, not seeing him continue out from behind the urinals.

Without warning, Draco darted from his hiding spot toward her. She knew he was going to attack her, but all Brooke brought herself to do was hold out her wand. Closer and closer, he sent no spell.

"Cr-" he began. His wand pointed into the line of stalls, ninety degrees from where Brooke stood.

"Sectumsempra!" shouted Harry.

The spell hit Draco in the chest and the force sent him in midair for a second before landing on the puddles of water on the floor.

Blood seeped in slashing lines through his shirt. Brooke felt planted to the ground, only managing to gape at Harry.

They rushed to Draco's body. Both blood and water began fanning out on his white shirt. Thankfully, he wasn't dead. His fingers moved slightly and Draco groaned weakly between pained gasps.

"MURDER!" Myrtle screamed. "MURDER IN THE BATHROOM!"

"I didn't-" said Harry, wide eyed.

Kneeling down, she tore open his shirt at the buttons and hastily tugged it out from under him. More than half his shirt was wet and acted as a poor sponge, nonetheless, Brooke tried soaking up the blood still seeping from the foot long cuts across his chest.

His fearful eyes blinked furiously to keep the blood from sliding into them, so Brooke had to use her sleeve to wipe his face. The stoic gaze he held onto over the course of the year fought with the escaped expressions of pain.

She grew frustrated that the wounds wouldn't stop bleeding.

Draco could feel his insides opened up to the cold air and clenched his teeth to stop the stinging every time he gasped for air.

The doors burst open and Snape strode in, livid at the scene. His nostrils flared and his black eyes darted between Draco on the floor, to Brooke's red hands and Harry, loosely holding his wand.

Without a word, he walked closer to Draco and Brooke clumsily got up from her knees to get out of the way. He muttered a lyrical incantation, waving his wand horizontally across Draco.

Soon, the open wounds began to stitch together without any material and with one last squeeze of blood, Snape stopped. The bathroom resorted back to its stillness with only the running of broken pipes and Draco's subsiding gasps.

Snape managed to pull him into a half standing position.

"You two, stay here," he said dangerously. It never occurred to them to make a run for it, but the tone in his voice rooted them to the ground.

She and Harry stood, silent as the drained gurgled down the mess. They were kicked out for good.

"I didn't know what it was," said Harry, still slightly breathless.

Brooke nodded in reassurance, but pursed her lips as heat rose to her eyes. What could have been so bad to make him cry like that?

The door opened again, and Snape came at them in more cold anger than the first time.

"It was an accident," explained Harry immediately. "And Brooke had nothing to do with it, Professor."

"No," said Brooke quickly. "Professor, I should have stopped it."

"Enough," he said curtly. "It is evident that Ms. Miller did not cast the spell with her wand lying feet away."

He was right. Brooke's wand lay where she dropped it when Draco got hit.

"You can return Mr. Malfoy's shirt," said Snape. "I need to talk to Potter alone."

"Sir, I-" said Brooke.

"_Now_," he said through his teeth.

Throwing Harry and apologetic look, she left the bathroom, receiving odd stares from students passing by. It was more than understandable. Brooke's shoes squeaked and she carried a wet bloody bundle in her hands. She could care less what she looked like.

Speeding up her pace, Brooke kept getting flashes of the slowly dying Malfoy and the frightened look in his eyes.

The Hospital Wing was completely empty except for the one bed, third from the front, thankfully with no blood covering his body. Instead, Draco looked ghostly white as if all his blood was in Brooke's hands.

"May I help you?" asked Madam Pomfrey from her office door.

"I needed to return his shirt," said Brooke, holding up the bloody cloth.

Madam Pomfrey nodded and left back into her office.

Draco raised his head an inch to see who walked in.

"Hey," she said nervously.

"What are you doing here?" he said with the lack of pleasantry he actually felt.

"Your shirt," said Brooke. She draped it on the railing at the foot of the bed. "And I wanted to make sure you're alright."

"I'm fine, aren't I?" replied Draco, sitting up. Although the wounds closed, the red lines on his face and neck shone against his skin.

"It didn't look like that in the bathroom," said Brooke. "I've never seen such a gruesome spell besides Unforgivables-"

"Well, I'm fine now, alright?" he said with folded arms.

"What's your problem?" asked Brooke, decidedly showing her anger at him now. "I'm trying to be nice and all you're doing is picking a fight."

Draco rolled his eyes and turned his back on her.

"I'm just worried about you," Brooke mumbled.

Stubbornly, he laid facing the wall and planned on doing so until he heard her footsteps leave the Hospital Wing, however, Brooke sighed and sat on his bed.

It was her own silent way of telling him she was won't leave until he talks to her.

For three minutes they sat, waiting for the other to start.

"You can tell me, you know?" Brooke finally said. "Whatever's going on with you."

Draco sat up again and looked at her.

"You won't leave me alone," he said in a way reminiscent of his usual tone of arrogant mockery.

Brooke narrowed her eyes and made a face.

"No," she said patiently. "I mean, really. What's bothering you so much to make you cry like that?"

"That's none of your business," he said sharply.

"Maybe it's not, but it's making me worried," she defended. "You've been acting strangely all year and progressively looking terrible."

This scene played out so many times in Draco's head, where he could finally tell Brooke everything and apologize for how much he'd been a jerk. It would lift so much off his back, but he knew tell her would only do more harm.

That was the selfish thing to do, to tell her everything. He kept quiet, staring at the sheets crumpling in towards her blood crusted hand.

"If you can't tell me, can you at least tell me where you got the locket?" asked Brooke.

"What locket?"

"The locket- the one you gave me?" By now, Brooke grew tired of trying to pry any more out of him and settled for a resigned tone.

"Why?" asked Draco.

"Curiosity."

"Found it around the house one day," said Draco, uncertain of her intentions. "I think it was in one of the studies, stuffed in a drawer or something."

"Oh," said Brooke, trying to sound as casual as possible. "Do you think your father brought it home or did you buy it somewhere?"

"I don't know," he said slowly. If only he'd learned Legilimens rather than Occulmency.

"Mm'kay," she said and stood up. "Well, thanks. I should get going."

"Hold on," he said, reaching into his pocket. After a bit of struggling, he tossed something to her that she could barely see, only catching it by the light reflecting off it for a millisecond.

Brooke held the ring between her thumb and forefinger.

"Why are you giving this back?" she muttered.

"What am I going to do with it? You said you'd keep it on no matter what and I don't feel like it's mine anymore," he said with a hard to read face.

"Wouldn't it be weird if I still had it?"

"It's just a ring," he shrugged.

Right. Like how the locket is just a necklace.

"Miller," someone said angrily.

They both turned toward the door to find Pansy in full stride, looking just about to strangle Brooke by the neck.

"I thought I told you to stay away from him," she said, drawing her wand.

Brooke raised an eyebrow. Ready to leave anyway, she strode to the door, bowing while passing Parkinson. "As you wish," she smirked.

The whispered arguing behind her brightened her day a little a more and Brooke walked out, pocketing the ring.

The sudden change of scenery alerted her of Snape and Harry in the bathroom. It must have been a while since she left and Brooke doubted the two were still there. She briskly walked to the common room, hoping he wasn't expelled or at least killed by Snape after what happened.

Thankfully, Harry was alive and didn't have his trunk packed next to him. He, Hermione, Ron and Ginny sat in front of the fire, their grim faces darker in the flickering ember lights.

"Where've you been?" asked Harry.

"I had to return his shirt," she replied simply. "But what happened? I thought Snape would have had you out of Hogwarts."

"I had to hide my Potions books," said Harry.

"Is that where you got that stupid spell?" asked Brooke angrily. "You could've killed him, you know."

"He was about to torture me," said Harry. "You were there."

"But you didn't even know what that spell was. You could have at least disarmed him or use a shield charm," retorted Brooke.

"Lay off him," said Ginny. "It obviously put Harry in a pressured situation, just be glad he reacted quickly."

"Like he hasn't been in a pressured situation before," snorted Brooke.

"The book's gone and hidden," spoke up Hermione. "And Harry's not going to go look for it again, will he?"

"No," said Harry grudgingly.

"Well, this is great," said Ron sarcastically. "Now Harry can't even play in the last Quidditch match."

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys :) Hope you liked my rendition of the bathroom scene. Review and tell me if you did or didn't or anything you have to say about the story in general. Thanks especially to Luli Cullen and vampire-angel1996 for their awesome ideas & of course everyone who read and reviewed. Being on Spring Break, I'll probably have a lot more time to work on the story and might actually finish up writing this book. So keep a look out!**


	15. When The Floodgates Open

_And I'd give up forever to touch you _  
_Cause I know that you feel me somehow _  
_You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be _  
_And I don't want to go home right now_

_And all I can taste is this moment _  
_And all I can breathe is your life _  
_Cause sooner or later it's over _  
_I just don't want to miss you tonight_

_And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming _  
_Or the moment of truth in your lies _  
_When everything seems like the movies _  
_Yeah you bleed just to know your alive_

_I don't want the world to see me _  
_Cause I don't think that they'd understand _  
_When everything's made to be broken _  
_I just want you to know who I am_

**[Iris by Goo Goo Dolls]**

* * *

The Gryffindors and even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were pretty angry that the Captain of the Gryffindor team got himself kicked off before the final match. No one wanted the Slytherins to win.

The opposing team, on the other hand, clapped whenever Harry walked into the Great Hall or they thanked him in the corridors.

She, Harry, Ron and Hermione left the Great Hall after grabbing a late lunch before the match. Ron hadn't eaten anything the entire day except a forced piece of toast and strawberry jam Hermione practically shoved in his mouth. His nerves might have been calmer if Harry was playing with him, or at least able to practice beforehand.

Harry, however, had to leave for Snape's detention and had to serve the extra punishment of missing the final Quidditch match entirely.

"I'll see you afterwards," said Harry glumly. With a pat on Ron's shoulder, he added, "good luck, mate."

Ron's mouth twitched and nodded. He opened the door to Snape's office and it fell closed behind him.

"What are the odds Harry gets into trouble a week before the match?" said Ron.

"He shouldn't have used that spell," said Hermione pointedly. She began to grow tired of both Harry and Ron's incessant complaints and curved part of the blame back to Harry.

"It wouldn't matter if he used it or not if Moaning Myrtle hadn't been screaming her head off. Snape wouldn't gone into the bathroom and Harry'd be headed to gear up right now," argued Ron.

Brooke blinked. One week's worth of thinking and guessing what was wrong with Draco, and she hadn't thought of asking. The answers were right there.

"I'll meet you guys at the pitch," she said. "I need to use the lavatory."

"Okay," said Hermione. "Look for me in the stands."

They were already on the first floor of the castle. Brooke turned around and made a right at the second corridor and into the bathroom.

"Myrtle?" she echoed. Nothing.

Hurriedly, Brooke went up to check the next floor. Not until the second bathroom on the third floor did Myrtle come gliding from a stall.

"Oh, it's you," she said, narrowing her eyes.

"I need to ask you a favor," said Brooke.

"You need my help, do you?" sneered Myrtle. She stuck up her nose and crossed her arms.

"Yes, actually. I wanted to ask-"

Myrtle shouted in frustration, doing a flip in the air before stopping suddenly in front of Brooke's face. "You really think I'm going to help you after you barged in last week? He hasn't come to talk to me at all since then!"

"Well, I'm sorry, but Harry and I weren't trying to disrupt your little talks," she replied coolly. "But that's what I wanted to ask you about. I need to know what he was telling you."

"Oho!" she heckled. "So that's what you want? You want to know so that you can go and talk to him instead!"

Brooke tried hard to not burst out laughing. What changed this year that made every girl so heavily jealous. Okay, granted, it basically was what she was going to do, but not for the same hopefully infatuated reasons as Myrtle.

"Look," Brooke began. "It's really important that someone else- it doesn't have to be me- to go and talk to him about it, someone more…alive."

The bathroom door opened and both girls looked. Brooke groaned in her head as she saw the bobbed brown hair and pug like face make its way into the bathroom.

Normally, Pansy Parkinson wore a more than displeased expression when she saw Brooke, but she looked practically murderous.

"Are you two moping around the castle together?" she said mockingly.

"I know this might be hard for you, but I would greatly appreciate it if you could save it for later. I'd like to get to the Quidditch match before it ends," lied Brooke.

As much as she wanted to be there for Ron, Brooke planned to finish her conversation with Myrtle and perhaps find Draco right after.

"Not when I'm through with you," said Parkinson. Her short and blunt wand aligned with Brooke's nose. "I told you to not interfere and you made Draco break up with me."

"I didn't even know you were broken up!" exasperated Brooke, her lips curling into a smile. All these accusations were getting to the point of ridiculous.

"Of course you did!" screeched Parkinson holding her wand tighter. "You were talking to him in the Hospital Wing right before I left and then he broke up with me!"

"I'm sorry," said Brooke slowly, trying not to laugh. "But it isn't my fault and quite frankly its only amusing to me how much you're getting worked up over it to the _wrong person_."

Shaking her head, Brooke walked away from Parkinson and Myrtle. She could wait a couple hours after the match to ask again.

Then the sound of jetting spell rushed to Brooke's ears and instinctively, she ducked to her right. Parkinson did not look like she was joking.

Grabbing her wand, Brooke ran out of the bathroom, telling herself over and over to not fight back or else she'd end up with as much detentions as Harry.

"You're running!?" Parkinson laughed derisively. "I can't believe you're actually running away. Scared little Miller!"

It took all her self control to stop herself from ripping the girl to pieces.

"Just wait until a Professor hears you!" shouted Brooke. The portraits along the walls watched the spectacle and some complained of the racket and the potential of breaking everything in the castle.

"Ha! They're all at the match!" said Pansy, sending another spell as Brooke went up the stairs, skipping over two at a time.

Could they all really be at the match? She knew McGonagall always went, and Snape, and Flitwick, and Sinistra and Brooke thought she saw Sprout on her way down to the pitch earlier. Trelawny would be holed up in her tower. Binns wouldn't be disturbed for anything.

If they were all gone, no one would be able to get either one of them into trouble. Her restraint began to fade and she almost gave into her burning anger and the desire to slam Parkinson into the ground with her entire tiger's weight. It would probably crush her, or at least be forceful enough to give Brooke time to take quite a few slashes at her face.

It seemed like a perfect idea, but then she knew she would regret it once she had to explain how Parkinson ended up dead on the castle floor.

She continued running up the staircases, at most, changing into her Animagus and hoping the stairs would change as soon as Brooke got to the top. Taking a different route than the next flight of stairs, Brooke dashed into the corridors, temporarily loosing her.

An intricately designed, but heavy ironed door was on her right and Brooke changed back and hid inside. She heard Pansy's faint footsteps passing by and leaned against the door to catch her breath.

She had not expected the enormity of the room to be as great as a cathedral. Unlike a cathedral, however, the room was messily packed with every sort of thing: shelves upon shelves of books and potions, empty cages, Zonko's products, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes boxes, dirty cauldrons, and a million other ornaments Brooke had never seen or imagine what it was for.

The only way you could see directly to the other side of the room was to look up at the tall windows. All the strange and ordinary artifacts were strewn and piled it was almost like a poorly drawn maze.

Brooke walked away from the door, making sure it was still in sight. A stack of folded up parchment lay a mahogany table, which looked about the only tidy, not dust ridden thing in the room. Curious, she gently pressed the top of the page, so that the light didn't glare on it.

Then, somewhere further in the room, someone laughed in relief. Automatically, her hand flew off the pages.

Carefully, she followed the sound, hiding behind the tall cabinets, or coat hangers before proceeding to the next hiding spot.

The person continued to laugh and whoop joyfully. Soon, Brooke couldn't tell if it was happy or not. It began to mix in with groans, and sighs and mumblings to themselves. She thought it might be a ghost until she saw Draco standing next to a large asymmetrical box.

--

Anxiously, Draco placed the bird in the cabinet and closed the door. Wiping his palms on his robes, he closed his eyes and said the incantation. He was running out of time; the Dark Lord knew it and if the cabinet doesn't work within the next month, he was dead.

Anticipating to see the bird still fluttering around, he opened the door. It was gone.

Draco's breath shook and his mind had all its attention on the door knob. He whispered the incantation excitedly and his hand reached for the knob again.

The bird was back again. It laid still on the floor. He knew what it meant.

"It works," he breathed. Draco sighed. He and his family wouldn't be killed after all.

He was going to live to the end of the year, when he thought for sure the Dark Lord would murder him for failing. But plans were finally going his way and getting the cabinet to work had be the biggest obstacle and his own solution.

Draco let out a cheer.

Taking a deep breath, the reality of his accomplishment washed back over him. The growing gloom that lifted off in the past minute only descended back down. It works.

He reminded himself that a dead bird stayed on the floor of the vanishing cabinet. What was he doing? He could have just condemned all of Hogwarts, just to save himself. He could have just sentenced them all to die, so that three far from innocent people could survive.

"What works?" Brooke asked quietly, quietly stepping out from behind a strange half human half abstract art statue.

Draco jumped, accidentally colliding with the cabinet door and shutting it closed. He quickly drew his wand, while Brooke forgot all about her own.

"Get out!" he shouted.

"What are you-" Brooke looked back and forth between the cabinet and Draco.

"Get _out_!" he shouted even louder.

"No!" she said strongly. "What does that cabinet even do?"

"Go, now," Draco glanced at the cabinet to make sure it was shut.

"Or what? Are you going to hex me? Erase my memory? Because I know something is up and you can bet I can go and tell someone," said Brooke.

Draco raised his wand even higher and Brooke held her breath, bracing herself for a spell.

Suddenly, he took off into the room, dodging the random messes quicker than Brooke could follow.

"Draco!" she called after him, trying to keep her eyes on where she stepped and where he ran. "Will you stop? This is pointless!"

She stumbled as her foot knocked over a chessboard with pieces different from the traditional kings and queens. The oddly shaped players knocked to the floor with a light clanking.

Brooke sighed. "You can't avoid me forever," she called out.

Something collided with her, and pushed until she hit a nearby shelf. Draco held her down by her shoulders and looked mad with determination, but Brooke could still make out how desperate and fearful his eyes stared at her.

"You need to leave," he said softly. "Now."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on," she said.

"Why do you have be so stubborn?" Draco shouted.

"Sorry for trying to help," she said angrily.

"You're always doing this," he hissed as he took a step closer and leaving two inches between them.

"Doing what?" she asked sharply.

"Trying to help," he mocked. "But you're only making things worse."

"You're the one shutting me out all the time! Maybe if you just let me help you for once-"

"I- Don't- Need- Your- Help," he said loudly, stressing each word.

"Fine, then talk to someone else, talk to your stupid friends or Snape or Dumbledore even," said Brooke heatedly.

"I don't need anyone's help," Draco sneered.

Out of frustration, Brooke bravely stepped another inch closer. "Yes you do! I don't think you realize that maybe someone might actually care more about you than _you_ do!"

Their breathing shallowed from yelling. His mouth was close to hers, so much that she couldn't tell the difference if she felt his breath or her own reflecting back off his lips.

His Adams apple bobbed above the neck of his shirt.

Draco wanted to despise her; to hate her as he's been conditioning himself to believe. Yet, every reason he'd presented to himself thus, went flying out the window. A floodgate seemed to open when they fixed their eyes on each other; Draco wanted all of her.

She leaned in closer until she felt his lips against hers. Draco tensed for a second, but the next, found himself kissing her back more thoroughly.

Her heart beat furiously, grasping his robes and pulling them as far as her hands could push against her own chest.

He pushed against her, a little too forcefully, that her back smashed again to the shelf.

To apologize, he gently held the back of her neck with both hands. Slowly, he let one of his hands run down from her neck, with his fingertips brushing against her skin and rested on her collarbone. The slight touch made her nerves run mad, eagerly wishing his hand didn't stop there.

Their lips pulled apart, but Draco's moved down to the nape of her neck. Brooke tilted her head and into the hand still close to her cheek.

Her hand traveled up into his hair and moved him back onto her lips. They moved away from the shelf, blindingly stumbling around until Draco's back stopped against a wall.

With his hands now wrapped around her hips, Draco swung her around, so Brooke was pressed up against the wall instead. In response, she bit his lip and moved her hands slowly down his abdomen to playfully push him away. His muscles tensed to counter, and she could feel his lips curving up.

Draco had a hand on the curve of her back and Brooke found her arms around his neck. Closer and closer they moved together so that she could feel every part of him covering her.

Then, he withdrew his lips quickly, immediately disappearing and finding the exit. The room grew cold, stealing away the warmth from her lips, her neck, her cheeks, everywhere he'd been.

The slam of the door thundered through the vast room and vibrated its way through the air. There, Brooke stood still, not able to move until the tug in her gut missing his presence subsided.

She couldn't believe how quickly and strongly she had given in, but not only that, Brooke still wanted him back in the room.

No, she didn't want him back. She couldn't or else it'd happen all over again and maybe worse.

What if she didn't mind?

--

He closed the door and breathed. His legs sped off away from the Room of Requirement as indistinguishable emotions punched him from the inside. One year and all of it had been undone. The sun outside told him it hadn't been hours, but other than that, Draco had lost track of time.

Storming down the corridor, he kicked down one of the suits of armor, satisfied to hear the echoing clank and crashing. Portraits nearby yelled at him to be quiet. His temper couldn't stand for anything.

Passing by one particularly scolding portrait, he swung the frame to shake up their scenery for a bit and make them feel exactly the way he did.

He struck down the books some small kid was carrying and strode past. Air pushed back and forth through his chest and his entire head was throbbing.

--

Her hand slid up her tear striken face, pushing back the hair from her eyes. She sat on the floor, her back on the wall and kicked the table legs in front of her in frustration.

Pieces of parchment fluttered down from it.

Eventually, Brooke took a deep breath and stood up. Her sight fuzzed for a moment while her knees felt like stilts holding her up, but she caught the table next to her to stop the fall.

Slowly, she explored the room, not wanting to have to go back out there and pretend to be okay. They must have been really caught up for not noticing stacks of books toppling over, small global ornaments now on the floor and tables out of line.

With a clearer head and tear free eyes, Brooke thought to go back to the cabinet and figure out exactly what it does. She and Draco strayed a good ways away from where they started.

And the box lay in the same place, still and ominous. She walked around it, finding only one door with no other drawers, or key holes, or labels. Touching the knob, she wondered if there would be any sort of spell against intruders or if some creature would jump out.

Inside, however, only lay a dead bird.

-

There wasn't any hope to watch the Quidditch match anymore, since it probably ended or would end as she arrived at the pitch. Either way, she had to go and talk to Hermione.

At the foot of the stairs, a large group of students headed her way, parading, jumping and whooping. A mass of red and gold.

"Party in the common room!" shouted Seamus, high fiving Brooke.

She cracked a smile and went through the crowd.

"Brooke!" called Hermione, walking with Ron. "Where were you? You missed the entire thing!"

Their faces were flushed with excitement and she sounded like she'd been cheering for the entire match's duration.

"You completely missed it! Right at the end of the match, we were tied with Slytherin and Warrington stole the quaffle. He nearly knocked Katie off her broom, managed to swerve past Ginny and flew straight at me. And when he feigned right, I nearly missed it, but I got the quaffle straight into my palm and threw it back at him!" explained Ron with detailed hand motions.

"Sounded like a great match," replied Brooke.

"It was amazing!" exclaimed Ron.

They followed the crowd into the common room and already had music pumping and danced around with the Quidditch cup in their hands.

Brooke pulled the two away to an empty corner of the room.

"But look, I got into the Room of Requirement and-"

"That's where you went off to?" Hermione said, that would begin a lengthy lecture.

"Not initially," said Brooke. "But Draco was in there and there was this box. I don't know what it was, but know its bad. There was a dead bird in there for goodness sakes. It probably kills whatever's inside or something."

"What was he doing with it?" asked Hermione. "I don't know," Brooke shook her head. "He was just saying, 'It works. It works,' and I tried asking him but."

"Did he run out of there?" asked Ron.

"No. Erm. He tried to, but we ended up yelling at each other and then…and then we ended up kissing," finished Brooke nervously.

"You what?" gasped Hermione.

Ron's face only looked disgusted.

"I don't know what happened," said Brooke in a defeated voice. "We were fighting and then…we weren't."

"This is why I didn't want you to go looking for him all the time," said Hermione.

"I know, I know!" Brooke groaned. "And it wasn't even a small kiss."

"So what? You snogged him?" asked Ron.

She fell down into an armchair behind her and buried her face in her hands.

"Brooke!" exasperated Hermione.

"Only for a couple minutes," defended Brooke. "Ten at the most."

"You said you were getting over him," said Hermione.

"I thought so too."

"Now you're back together?"

"No. I mean, maybe. No, no, no we're not," she said firmly. "Of course not. He sped off right in the middle."

"Well, I still think it's best if you left it alone," said Hermione, "so you can get over him."

"I have been!" exclaimed Brooke. "What do you think I've been trying to do for the past couple months?"

"I mean no more of those expeditions to follow him with Harry."

Brooke pursed her lips. Hermione was right, but she wasn't quite in the mood to admit it.

"Fine, but I'm sure Harry'll want to know about that box," muttered Brooke. She stood up and they moved further into the heart of the party.

They heard wolf whistling and cheers. There was Harry in the center of the circle of Gryffindors, kissing Ginny.

Of course Brooke was ecstatic that he finally did something about his fancy towards Ginny, but something kept her from beaming as much as Hermione.

_How was it so easy for them? There, in plain sight and truly happy to be together._

--

Draco closed his eyes. He was weak for giving in so easily.

Now he hardly knew what he wanted. He had chosen his family already and worked towards saving them and himself for the entire year and only now he was thinking about changing his mind.

How fickle he was. Weak, a coward, an embarrassment and a failure, his father would say.

The consequences of either decision almost equaled each other.

The Dark Lord would certainly kill him one way.

The other, Draco would live, but he was almost as certain that she would be killed.

With that particular refreshment of exactly what Brooke meant to him, he couldn't think of what he'd do if he lost her.

If she died, Draco gulped, he knew it wouldn't be long until he followed her.

He put his arms on the railing and his head in his hands.

Below him, the grass quivered. It was a long fall from the Astronomy Tower.

Either way, Draco would die, wouldn't he?

Maybe he could save time and get it over with.

There was a slight breeze, even more chilling from the height Draco was at and the thought passed through him for a moment. He couldn't. Nothing mattered except one thing, to protect her.

* * *

**A/N: Another chapter & I really hope you guys enjoyed this one as much as I did writing it :) There's two ways I've been debating between to take the story and I think I've finally decided :P So, look out for the updates.**

**& review review! I love reading them and they really do help improve my story. So, review :D  
**


	16. Can't Be Rescued

_Undone for the last time_

_And it's unclear_  
_ But this may be my last song_  
_ She's raising hell to give to me_  
_ She got me warm_

_Oh, I can feel her, she's dying_  
_ Just to keep me cool_  
_ I'm finally numb, so please _

_Oh, say you'll miss me one last time_  
_ I'll be strong, but whatever you do_  
_ Please don't get me rescued..._

_ 'Cause I'm feeling like_  
_ I might need to be near you_  
_ And I feel alright, so please_  
_ Don't get me rescued... _

----

_I sense there's something in the wind_  
_ That feels like tragedy's at hand_  
_ And though I'd like to stand by him_  
_ Can't shake this feeling that I have_  
_ The worst is just around the bend_

_And will we ever end up together?_  
_ no, I think not, it's never to become_  
_ For I am not the one_

**[Rescued by Jack's Mannequin & Sally's Song by Fiona Apple]**

* * *

"No," said Brooke. "No, I didn't see for the millionth time."

She told Harry the little that she did see in the Room of Requirement after telling him about her and Draco, so this way, they lingered less on the latter topic. Knowing Harry all to well, Brooke was in no surprise that he jumped right onto the suspicion upon mentioning the strange cabinet.

"That would've been perfect if you'd seen," he continued.

"Well, I'm sorry," exaggerated Brooke. "Perhaps you should have been with me, since you're so amazing at spying on people."

His eyebrows raised. "I was only saying. And besides, I was in detention, remember?"

"For good reason," she retorted.

"It was an accident," he defended.

Brooke swallowed her arguments by stuffing the rest of her waffle in her mouth.

In the few remaining hours of yesterday night, her temper flared each time Hermione or Ron merely mentioned Draco in any other conversation besides the cabinet. It was a good thing Harry and Ginny were out all night, giving her a few hours' sleep to clear her head. But that brief period of peace lasted until the moment she woke up.

Brooke's head played pingpong every time the new couple came around. She was definitely jealous of how they smiled at each other and the warm sense of security, like they had a secret all to themselves.

Unwillingly, she thought of when she and Draco first began going out. Even that was more difficult than the happy couple. They actually had to keep a secret. True, it eventually worked out, but not until the git began messing around in Umbridge's ordeals.

What a mess of a relationship she had gotten herself into.

But all in all, she was happy for Harry and Ginny.

They walked to Potions, which Brooke was dreading all morning. She took her seat and took special care in unpacking her materials.

"Oh goodness," she muttered involuntarily. Draco made his way into her peripheral vision, just a glimpse.

As long as she didn't have to look at him, hear him, or talk to him, she would be just fine.

All throughout the day, having almost every class with Draco, Brooke could hardly focus. She wondered if he couldn't focus either or what exactly he was thinking. At one point in Transfiguration, Brooke found herself dwelling on the notion of them getting back together.

Scary thought.

Scary, more of the fact that she was thinking about it. Or maybe he wasn't even affected at all by what happened.

No, of course it mattered. He couldn't fake that.

The longer Brooke thought about it rather than concentrating on the relativity of transfiguration to Patronuses, the more she wondered why they _weren't _together. Ready to confront him, she stuffed her belongings into her bag as she walked out the door.

Her bag collided with someone in the doorway and she looked up to apologize.

She didn't even to look at his face to know it was Draco. After a time stopping half second, they darted in opposite directions.

For the following days, they succeeded in avoiding each other completely. Brushing against his hand in Transfiguration in class the other day freaked her out; she knew she couldn't handle talking to him now.

Upon Hermione's orders, Harry took to his own means of figuring Draco's doings by himself and only mentioned him planning to talk to Dumbledore on their next meeting.

--

Six hours. The antique clock on his right dinged 7:00 pm. He should be downstairs and eating a bit at least, but he wasn't hungry. Draco sat in front of the Vanishing cabinet, opening and closing the door with his wand, watching it shake with each slam close.

He was going to break it at this rate.

Subconsciously, he wanted to break it, for the door to fly off its hinges.

He'd only been in the Room of Requirement the night before to check if it still worked. Coming in for the first time, since Brooke snuck in- something he still had not figured out, Draco stood wide eyed at the fallen pieces of parchment, wondering if Brooke had seen them and knocked it down on purpose.

Draco didn't even want to touch her old letters and left them lying strewn on the floor.

By ten, he decided to leave. Slipping out of the Room of Requirement, he saw Brooke, Granger and Weasley walking up the stairs.

"I hope he doesn't stay long," said Granger.

The three of them stopped still, except Granger, who momentarily glanced at Brooke. Brooke, on the other hand, looked at the portrait in the opposite direction of where he stood.

She began to walk.

"Brooke," Draco called her.

"Yes?" she said, turning and trying to keep her expression and voice as calm as possible.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked.

"Sure," she replied. Brooke's feet were planted on the ground. The last time she'd looked straight at him had been the moment before kissing him in the Room of Requirement.

Ron gave her a tiny push and began to head to the Fat Lady's portrait. Hermione, however, didn't leave until Ron had to grab her arm. He nodded in reassurance.

Draco walked in the other direction, meaning for her to follow him and as much as she didn't want to, Brooke trailed after him. For a moment, Brooke's stomach did flips as they headed towards the Room of Requirement, but he stopped in the middle of that empty corridor.

"I wanted to apologize," he began, formally, rehearsed almost. "I shouldn't have kissed you the other day."

"No, you shouldn't have," she said, mentally slapping herself for not coming up with anything better to say.

"I'm sorry," Draco replied. With his pin posture and his business like air, Brooke felt so childish for not handling the situation in the same way.

Maybe if Draco put a bit of a sneer behind his words or even that haughty stance, Brooke would feel a bit more comfortable.

"No, I mean it was partially my fault, too," she sighed. "I kissed you first."

"But I didn't stop you," he said.

"I guess it was both our fault," she said with a laugh, but it ended up weak and shaky.

Draco stared at her. From the small dip in her nose to the pout in her pursed lips, he tried engraving in his mind. But there was no point in trying to remember something he never could forget.

"Erm." Brooke's eyes flickered to the bench behind him to the right of his ear. "It's getting late. It think we should-"

"Not yet," Draco blinked. How was he going to put this? "I need you to make one more promise."

"Is it about the ring? Cause I still have it on," she held up her pinky, toying around with it on her finger.

"I need you to stay out of trouble," he said.

Brooke narrowed her eyes apprehensively. "You're the one manning a death trap cabinet and telling _me_ to stay out of trouble?"

Draco's eyes hardened. "Just do it…please?"

With that one look, she somehow understood.

There was no glowing moonlight shining through the window. Outside, the dark clouds enshrouded the stars and you could hardly tell where the sky hit the ground.

She and Draco stood in the corridor, silently staring at the other and she understood more than when they spoke.

"You're not going to tell me what's going on, are you?" she asked quietly.

Draco shook his head slowly.

Brooke closed her eyes so that her eyelashes would catch most of the tears like a net. "Is it tonight? Whatever it is?"

The muscles in his jaw clenched and he looked away, giving all the confirmation Brooke needed.

"Just be careful?" she said, gulping and her voice gaining back its strength. "Alright?"

He nodded solemnly.

"I gotta go," she said. Her eyes were on the brink of spilling and once her face was out of his sight, they fell on perfect timing.

Over her shoulder, he stood like a stone wall, a dam only close to cracking at the brows.

Suddenly she found herself tightly wrapped in his arms.

This was wrong, Draco thought to himself. He should be thrown into Azkaban just for talking to her; shot with a killing curse for holding her.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

Draco walked backwards, step by step before reaching the foot of the stairs. Then, she watched him until the last blonde strand disappeared into the marble walls.

Talking her time, Brooke headed for the common room.

As soon as she stepped into the portrait hole, someone took a hold of her arm and brought her to the couches near the fireplace where Hermione and Ron sat, anxiously.

The fire flickered on their faces, grim and scared. Harry was the only one jittery, with a balled up pair of socks in his hands.

"I haven't got time to explain it again," he started, messily folding up his Invisibility Cloak, "but I'm going with Dumbledore for a Horcrux. Take this." He handed Ron the mustard colored socks.

"Thanks mate," said Ron, eyeing the package, "but what do I need socks for?"

"You need what's in them."

Ron unrolled it and let a small vial roll out into his hands.

"Share it between yourselves and Ginny. Say goodbye to her for me," said Harry. He reached into his back pocket and gave Brooke the Marauder's Map. "I know you don't want to, but watch Malfoy and Snape, for that matter too. And use those galleons form last year to contact everyone from the D.A." he added to Hermione.

"But-" Hermione began.

"I need to go. Dumbledore's waiting- don't look like that Hermione, I'll see you guys later," he finished and sped out the portrait hole.

Brooke felt dumbstruck at the rapidity of the scene, momentarily having to remind herself of what Harry had said. "Dumbledore's leaving tonight?"

"They think they've found a location of one of the Horcruxes," said Hermione, who then stood up. "I better get those galleons then."

About a minute later, she came back holding three galleons.

"I almost forgot, you have to tell me what happened with Draco," she looked at Brooke.

"He wanted to talk about what happened in the Room of Requirement."

"Naturally," she said. "But what did he say?"

Brooke shrugged. "That we shouldn't have kissed." "But you expected that, right?"

"I prepared myself for it."

"Don't worry too much about that bloke," said Ron.

The fire crackled in its place, throwing its embers at them before disappearing at the last moment. Hermione's galleon glowed once she set the message and moments later, so did Ron and Brooke's.

"I told them to meet us outside the common room," said Hermione, pocketing the galleon and handing the two their own.

Opening the map, Brooke quickly scanned the dots, easily spotting one of the few people moving in the castle. Draco was walking in one of the corridors, swiftly back to the 7th floor.

"Maybe we should save this for later," said Ron, tilting the vial of Felix Felicis back and forth. "There might not be anything happening tonight anyway. I mean, Dumbledore's been gone multiple times before."

"We need to use it," said Brooke abruptly.

"Anything on the map?" Hermione peered over her shoulder. Broke shut it closed.

"Nope," she said. "Snape's in his room and so is Draco."

"Well we should head out to wait for the others," suggested Hermione and before she could take away the map, Brooke stopped her.

"You should wake up Ginny, remember?"

"Right," said Hermione, staring right into Brooke's eyes. It was a good thing Brooke had no trouble concealing whatever ran through her mind.

Once she left, Brooke opened the map again. Draco moved across the parchment, past her and Ron and disappeared. Brooke bit her lip.

She could go after him. She knew how to get into the Room of Requirement.

"So what do we need to do?" Ginny appeared in the common room steps before Hermione. Her eyes still held sleep in them, but other than that she seemed alert, probably after having been told Harry's gone.

"Keep watch," replied Brooke.

"Do they think something's happening tonight?" she asked.

"Harry reckons so," said Ron.

"We should start patrolling then."

Brooke glanced at the Maruader's Map once more and followed them out of the common room. The night seemed to gain another four hours since she had been in the corridors. After curfew, the lights dimmed to perfectly shaped orange tear drops and their sleepy alertness blended with the blurred glow of the crescent moon. The sky stood starless.

"We'll give it another ten minutes for anyone to show up," said Hermione.

No one arriving, Brooke checked the map and then looked up to see the foot of the stairs and confirm that it was indeed, Luna Lovegood. A few seconds later, the Fat Lady's portrait swung open and Neville walked out in his pastel blue pajamas.

"What's going on? The galleon said it was urgent," he said.

"Are we having a late night DA session?" asked Luna, looking more like an owl in the night.

"No, Harry's asked us to keep watch over the castle tonight," said Ron. "He and Dumbledore had to go on some business."

"Are they out looking for aquavirius maggots?" asked Luna. "Tonight's when they're supposed to come out of their habitats and glow."

"Er, no," said Ron.

"The six of us should be enough," said Hermione. "We'll split up into pairs- two over Snape, two in front of the Slytherin common room and two at the Room of Requirement just in case-"

"Make that three and three," interrupted Brooke. "Draco's in the Room of Requirement, so there's no need to watch the common room."

"I thought you said he was in bed," eyed Hermione.

"Must have read it wrong," said Brooke with her eyes fixed on their own cluster of dots.

"Alright," she said slowly. "Then we'll have Ron, Ginny and Neville here on the 7th floor and Brooke, Luna and I at Snape's."

"I would have thought Brooke to stay here, since she's spoken the most with Draco Malfoy," said Luna in her usual dreamy voice knowing no form of awkwardness.

Brooke's face was hidden all but her eyes behind the map. She secretly thought the same.

"That's true," said Hermione somewhere on her left. "But I think its fine either way."

The slightly crinkled parchment fluttered in her hand from her breath.

"We'll take the map too," added Hermione. "Make sure no one comes in or out of the Room of Requirement."

After taking small gulps of the rest of the Felix Felicis, they split up and Brooke tucked away her envy of the three heading to the corridor. Luna was right. She could talk him out of whatever it is he's doing, or at least reassure herself.

In reality, she knew there would be no changing his mind, but being so far away from the situation placed more things out of her control.

The three girls held their lit wands in front of them, while Brooke constantly checked the map for any movement.

All was calm on both the 7th and their own floor.

"Was that all you guys talked about?" asked Hermione. They waited around near Snape's door, leaning on the wall.

"What do you mean?"

"You and Draco? You just talked about the kiss…or did he mention anything about tonight?" she asked, trying to read anything from Brooke's face.

"If he did I missed it," she said.

Hermione nodded. "So what's wrong?"

Brooke looked at her questioningly.

"You seem awfully quiet."

She sighed. "I guess I'm only worried."

For a couple of seconds, they watched Snape's door, then Hermione turned to her again.

"Can I ask you something?"

Brooke looked at her.

"Well, I didn't want to ask before because I thought it would only make things worse, but I was only wondering if maybe you still, if you really do, still love him?"

Her face fell. "I don't," said Brooke louder than she wished.

"Just thought I should ask," Hermione muttered. "And I know I've said it multiple times, but the reason I keep pushing you away from him is because I don't want you to get hurt-"

"Like it matters," retorted Brooke.

"What do you mean?" she asked, alarmed.

"Nevermind," she grumbled.

"Brooke," said Hermione, with crossed arms and shifting her weight onto her right leg.

"What?" she said rudely.

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

If she really wanted to know, then fine.

"It doesn't matter if I get hurt or not," said Brooke crossly, "because it obviously can't be worse than it is."

Brooke stared back at Snape's door, but couldn't get rid of Hermione's expression in the corner of her eye.

"So you still love him?"

"Of course!" said Brooke angrily. She breathed. "Of course I still do. And I know something's going to happen." Her voice began to sound strained and she hated it.

"What?" asked Hermione suddenly. "You mean now? What did he tell you?"

"Nothing more than that," Brooke shook her head. "But you should have heard him, Hermione. Whatever it is, I know he's going to get hurt somehow and now I can't do anything because he won't tell me."

It felt uplifting to drop the secret. But at the same time, the worry bore around her like a sticking drape, suffocating.

"That's why we're here though," said Hermione softly. "We're keeping watch to make sure he doesn't get himself into any of that."

She and Draco seemed to have had an unspoken agreement after their last conversation; an acceptance of something inevitable and of something they could never bring back. They weren't keeping watch to stop him. They were watching to make sure they catch him doing it. Brooke, on the other hand, stood with them, juggling which side she should take.

For the next half hour, they sat, facing the same wooden door. Brooke passed her time staring at the map and the small representatives of people soundly in their beds. The huge cathedral sized room, however was neglected by the map and she fixed her eyes on the spot where Draco's dot should be.

The unwanted predicted scenarios of what was going on right at that space, right at that moment penetrated her mind. What could he possibly be doing?

A new black dot emerged. Draco Malfoy. She them from above, as Ginny, Ron and Neville jerked forward and stop suddenly. They must have been stunned, she thought, but they only stumbled around, leaving a clear path. More dots followed.

"What's wrong?" asked Hermione, startled. Brooke didn't even realize she stood up so suddenly.

"Watch Snape!" she said, shoving the map into Hermione's hands. Brooke dashed to the 7th floor, jumped the last steps.

She took a quick left and a right into the corridor.

The room went pitch black.

* * *

**A/N: Aah. I know I skipped last week's update. Sorry! It's just been busy busy busy & I haven't got time to write. But I promise, in about two weeks, I'll be free from the worst part of the school year and be updating in no time.**

**It's a shorter chapter than usual, but hopefully you enjoyed it. Please please keep reviewing :) Love you guys!**


	17. Death Eaters

_I'm just a step away_  
_Falling off the edge today_

_I am just a man_  
_Not superhuman_  
_Someone save me from the hate_

_It's just another war_

_I've gotta fight today_  
_To live another day_

_Who's gonna fight for what's right?_  
_Who's gonna help us survive?_

_I'm gonna fight for what's right_

_And if it kills me tonight_  
_I will be ready to die_

_I need a hero_  
_A hero's gonna save me just in time_

**[Hero by Skillet] **

* * *

Snapping around, Draco groaned in his head upon seeing Brooke run into the hallway. She stood there, confused and gripping her robes for her wand.

"Lumos!" Brooke shouted. The tip glowed, but she dropped her arm in frustration, squinting.

With no surprise, the newcomer attracted his aunt Bellatrix, pulling her away from the Weasel girl.

"We have to keep going!" he called to her.

His aunt's eyes darted to his, surprised, but with the same amused stare. "Excuse me?"

"Draco?" said Brooke, sweeping her eyes just over where he stood.

"She seems to know you," Bellatrix said, moving her eyes back onto Brooke.

Brooke's mouth opened slightly, carefully stepping forward like she expected to fall at its edge at any moment.

The side of Bellatrix's mouth twitched up and she walked toward Brooke with her wand extended, staring with a destructive curiosity. Instinctively, Draco lunged forward to push Brooke out of the way.

The green jet of light shot past them.

//

It felt like a wrecking ball smacked her sideways out of nowhere, until she made out the limbs. Brooke groaned, blindly groping the floor for her wand.

"I told you to stay out of trouble," someone whispered angrily.

"Why? So you can parade around the castle? Don't think I don't recognize her voice," Brooke whispered back, high with panic.

"You're just going to have to trust me," he said.

"I do! But you don't know what you're doing," she said to the darkness. Her palm hit something withered and light burst in her eyes.

Brooke blinked hard and Draco came into view, close to her face. Seeing her gaze focus straight onto his, Draco quickly got up, but she tightened her grip on the Hand of Glory, being picked up along with it.

Six other Death Eaters, a couple she recognized from the Department of Mysteries, stood behind him, observing Ron, Ginny, and Neville like bored predators.

Quickly, she made for his left forearm and pushed the sleeve black. Upon his pale, smooth skin was a harsh black and grey outline of a snake slithering out of a skull.

"You- You're really," breathed Brooke. Seeing it person, engraved in flesh was much different from an sure fire assumption.

He jerked his arm back toward him. "Brooke-"

She snatched him up again, this time, with her wand pointed at his neck. "No! No explanations, alright?" she said furiously, but scared to death. "I can't let you go running off!"

Taking a soft step toward her, he bent his head slightly.

"I need to go," he said softly. "Please."

Brooke looked at him in disgust, but brought herself only half the way.

"Trust me," he said even softer. She counted how many inches away his lips were, and the numbers were getting smaller. She moved her head away.

His hand reached up and brushed her cheek to face him again.

"Brooke. I still love you."

She froze. Her eyes, mouth, arms and feet all froze in place. Snapping back, she grabbed his hand and hurried to the hall. Putting a finger to her lips, she motioned him to stay here.

Through the hall on her left, Brooke peered in to see Tonks, walking slowly, patrolling the top floor. Taking a gulp, Brooke stepped from the wall and quickened her pace.

"Tonks!" she called.

"Oh, hello, Brooke," Tonks replied, confused. "It's past curfew-"

"Something's happened in the hallway, come look!" Tonks abandoned her post to follow Brooke into the impenetrable darkness. Once a group of footsteps raced by, Brooke knew Draco had taken the opportunity of a free path.

"Lumos!" Tonks yelled.

"It won't work against it," said Brooke, keeping her ears perked for any other noise.

"Brooke? Is that you?" asked someone.

Slowly moving forward, she felt someone's hand reaching in the air and grabbed it. Their shoulders were much higher than her own.

"Ron?"

"What are you doing here? Where's Hermione and Luna?"

"They're still watching Snape," replied Brooke.

Tonks's voice struck the darkness repeatedly, trying various spells, and eventually giving up.

After a terrible game of marco polo, the group managed to feel out for the others and get out of the corridor. Refocusing to the dim light, they glanced around.

"Which way?" asked Ginny.

Brooke looked to her right, where she heard the Death Eaters' footsteps. She shrugged.

"Professor Lupin?" said Neville by the edge of the stairs.

Their heads whipped in the direction Neville was looking and nonetheless, there was Lupin followed by Bill.

"Where are they?" he asked urgently.

"We don't know," said Brooke. "Everything went pitch black and they got past."

"Where did who go?" asked Tonks.

"The Death Eaters managed to get into the castle," he said quickly. "Miss Granger thankfully sprinted to show me the map." Lupin unfolded the map at top speed and Brooke's heart fell.

"This way," shouted Lupin, already into the corridor Draco was headed.

"They couldn't be too far away," said Tonks, catching up to him. "I was patrolling just here a minute ago."

Brooke dashed after them to take a quick scan around, but met with two Death Eaters running at her. Thankfully, transfiguring made her shorter and the bright green light skimmed the fur along the top of her ear.

Lupin, Tonks and Bill ran towards them instead, welcoming a third and fourth Death Eater. Draco and Bellatrix, lingered in the back for a moment before deciding to keep pushing forward.

Brooke, Lupin and Neville saw them and raced to catch them. Bill sent a curse. Before it could hit either Draco or Bellatrix, a force field appeared to disintegrate the spell. Brooke stood there with her wand extended and her eyes wide.

"Whose side are you on?" yelled Bill. He ran off before she could apologize.

Curses broke out in the hallway, filling up almost every space that it was a wonder she didn't get hit by any of them just yet. It took both the fighting efforts of Neville, Lupin and now Ginny to battle against Bellatrix.

Glancing behind her, the others were still locked in a battle, where McGonagall had joined in at one point.

Through the fight, Brooke weaved her way to Draco. Grabbing his shoulders, she forced him down to duck a spell.

"Go!" she shouted as she pushed him away from the battle.

As the party evolved into a chase down the floor, Brooke found the perfect time to sneak further in and slip into the stairway to the Astronomy Tower at the end of the hall.

Coming down from the foot of the stairs, a huge Death Eater squeezed through the doorway. He could easily be mistaken for a wall if Brooke hadn't peered higher to see his blonde head.

Immediately, she transfigured yet again and ran for it, swerving and turning as much as she could to dodge his curses.

On the last flight of stairs, Brooke leapt down in the middle of where the battle now was taking place.

Over her shoulder, the enormous Death Eater seemed to take four times as many strides as her own. Then, something smashed into her, something dirty with matted fur and muscular.

The tall, lean and hunched Death Eater she saw in the Room of Requirement corridor took off his black robes. Fenir Greyback, faced her, his fangs more frightening than his glowing yellow eyes.

Brooke crouched on her hind legs and leapt to jump over him. However, her jump wasn't enough. All he had to do was straighten his back and use his bony claws to grab her upper body. She roared in pain, feeling the sharp ends pierce her flesh.

He threw her thirty feet away from him and Brooke landed on her paws, but they soon collapsed under her. Back into a human, she clutched at her leaking sides, red and shining with fresh blood.

Gasping, Brooke stood up; one hand wrapped around her body and the other grasping her wand. The werewolf headed to finish what he started, even more attracted by the smell of blood.

The one spell that hit him had minimal effect, only making him stumble backwards. Shaking his head like an angry dog, Greyback got down on all fours and ran towards her, trails of saliva, whipping off his snarling mouth. From the side, a curse hit him in the face and he changed his course to charge at Bill.

Hermione and Luna appeared at her side, diving into the battle at once.

"Did you see where Snape went?" said Hermione.

"I thought you were watching him!" Brooke exclaimed.

Her expression didn't make anything more settling.

"Harry!" Ginny shouted. "When did you get here?"

He looked sucked in his own world, stopping only to shoot a curse at the Death Eater fighting Ginny and from accidentally tripping in what looked like two bodies on the floor.

Ahead of him and approaching where Brooke was, Draco and Snape had managed to scrape past the curses and aim for the front doors.

Brooke ran and lunched for his wrist.

"Let go!" he yelled.

"You let them in here. Get them out!"

"That's what I'm doing," he said. The Death Eaters seemed to be moving in battle, trying to edge nearer to the exit.

"No, you're escaping!" she exasperated, holding him at a tighter grip.

"Draco!" called Snape, striding towards them, looking wretched and terrifying as the spells flew by, not hitting him once.

She didn't even see Draco's hand flick before being sent flying away from him. Her sides stung even more, the blood still not quitting. For a second, Draco glanced at Snape and back onto Brooke.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" Draco yelled.

Brooke lay on her side with her hair draped over her face.

Draco faded into the darkness.

* * *

**A/N: Very short chapter. I'm very sorry, but I do hope its an interesting one that you guys actually review on :) Hahah. I do thank those of you that are always reviewing, you guys rock! & I'm always thankful of everyone who reads, but without those reviews, I have no idea what my strengths and weaknesses are. :P So please review! It takes one second & I'll be forever grateful.**

**& I'm definitely trying to get in the next chapter as soon as possible, so as to not leave you all on the cliffhanger.**


	18. Once More Before A Shut Down

_I Wish you didn't love me_  
_ I wish you'd make this easy_  
_ It was love that caught me_

_I want to be by your side_  
_ So I can close my eyes_  
_ To the growing emptiness inside that kills me_

_You try to break me Try to hate me_  
_ So you can fall out of love_  
_ You want to make me believe that I'm crazy_  
_ That I'm nothing with out you_

_It's unbelievable but I believed you_  
_ Unforgivable but I forgave you_

_ You're irreplaceable but I'll replace you_  
_ Now I'm standing on my own_  
_ Alone_

**[Unbelievable by Kaci Brown]  
**

* * *

"_Draco, please, just let go of me, I promise I'll be fine," she pleaded, pulling her arm and glancing at her friends running further and further away._

"_No, I can't let you!" he pulled her the other way._

"_Since when did you start fearing 'danger' anyway?"_

"_This is different. This isn't me going off somewhere, it's you," he managed to jerk her close in front of him._

"_Trust me," she stopped fighting against him. "I'm not afraid of whatever's coming."_

"_Exactly," he began to look worried. "that's exactly why I can't let you go. I know you won't run away when you should. You'll be killed!"_

_//  
_

"_It's beautiful," she exclaimed, almost entranced by the deep patterns from the marble._

"_Thought you might like it," he smiled and put in her palm._

_Brooke put it on her left little finger and examined how it looked._

"_Don't take it off, alright?" Draco asked, holding the finger the ring wrapped around. "Promise?"_

The groggy blur descended like waking up after a deep sleep. A harsh throbbing pain thrashed the left side of her head, adding to the stinging soreness on her sides. Her vision fuzzed, only able to see the blended colors of the walls.

Brooke lifted her head up.

Suddenly, arms clutched around her, "Brooke!"

The impact made her brain rattle in her head.

"Thank goodness!" said Hermione. "I couldn't get you to wake, I thought that-" she finished with a frightened look and another side crushing hug. Her hair was frizzier than normal with the inner strands darker with sweat, and her cheek look grazed.

The lights were still dimmed mixed with a murky blue sky, but a glare of green light penetrated through the windows above the Astronomy Tower.

Brooke sat up bolt right and white spots burst before her eyes. She remembered there was a battle going on.

"Don't get up so fast!" said Hermione.

Reaching for her left temple, the sensitive sticking told her she was bleeding. "Hermione, what happened? Where is everyone?"

"They've gone ahead outside after the Death Eaters," she replied. A hesitant expression gradually took her face. "You…don't remember what happened to you do you?"

Thinking hard, Brooke tried to trace back from the last thing she remembered. "Everyone was in here fighting and Harry ran in running after Snape and Draco and-"

She stopped. It finally dawned upon her. The light bursting from the tip of Draco's wand, honing straight to Brooke's heart. She turned to Hermione, who nodded.

"But I'm still-"

"It didn't hit you," she responded quickly. "That blonde Death Eater kept firing spells everywhere and one hit the wall corner next to you. A part hit your head and pushed you out of the way. I thought, I really thought- he'd…actually done it. If Harry didn't give us the Felix Felicis," she shook her head.

Brooke stared blankly, unsure of what to think, how to organize the still mess of her thoughts. Her legs, however, seemed to know what to do.

Standing up, Brooke lost balance for a half second before sprinting to the front doors. She didn't need to know where she was headed, for a small crowd of people were gathered near the Astronomy Tower, the green Dark Mark shining overhead. Hermione stopped next to Brooke a few seconds later.

Hesitantly, they approached the group, recognizing Ron, Luna, Ginny, Lupin, Tonks, and McGonagall. The closer they got, the more Brooke could see a somewhat large flat figure, laying at their feet.

Someone had died, Brooke thought to herself.

The figure had on a set of light blue robes, a long beard and slightly askew half moon glasses.

Brooke blinked, wondering if the blow to her head was beginning to make her hallucinate. Hermione's horrified gasp told her otherwise.

It still didn't connect in her mind. The fallen figure could not have been real. The association of death with Professor Dumbledore had never struck her, even though she knew Dumbledore would not run from death.

No one said a word.

No one looked elsewhere but the man, lying spread eagled on the grounds of his school.

"You should all be in the Hospital Wing," said McGonagall hollowly. Dispersing slowly, they complied.

As they headed silently to the Hospital Wing, Brooke began to thaw from her frozen disposition. How could Dumbledore have been killed? Not by Death Eaters, surely. He couldn't have lost to them.

Was that what Draco had to do tonight?

Brook shut off her mind immediately. She didn't want to think about him at all; no talking, no thinking, no feeling.

However, she couldn't repress that suffocating veil of misery.

They had reached the Hospital Wing, where she mildly noted Madam Pomfrey tending to the two unmoving bodies. Brooke sat in a cot, every muscle feeling like stone.

Brushing over her left hand, she realized there was something missing. Brooke looked. There was no small black ring and her little finger felt naked without it. She must have dropped it somewhere. Good. She didn't want it. She didn't need it. If his father wanted to come fight her, then by all means; Brooke had enough of the Malfoys.

She didn't mind the pain in her head and torso, to which Madam Pomfrey attended to. It felt right, necessary to physically feel hurt. It matched.

Her eyelids weighed pounds, not so much because of a need for sleep, but a part of shutting down, of the heaviness she felt draped over her.

Foolish. To think that she actually helped him, that she actually believed every word he said. Manipulation. She let herself be vulnerable.

Around her, they were talking. She couldn't understand what about, but caught bits and phrases about Dumbledore and what would happen to the school now.

The door opened and Harry came in, with Ginny, whom Brooke hadn't notice leave the Hospital Wing. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked older somehow.

Hermione ran towards to hug him; Lupin made a start forward, looking anxious.

"Are you alright Harry?"

"I'm fine…How's Bill?" he asked.

They simply looked at Bill, whose face was hidden in the slashes and puffed flesh bordering around them. Brooke felt her head spin.

"Erm," Harry said quietly, "Dumbledore- he's…"

"We know," said Lupin, eyes downcast.

"How did he die?" whispered Tonks.

"Snape killed him," said Harry. "I was there, I saw it. We arrived back on the Astronomy Tower because that's where the Mark was. …Dumbledore was ill, but I think he realized it was a trap when we heard footsteps running up the stairs. He immobilized me under the Invisibility Cloak- and then Malfoy came through the door and disarmed him."

Brooke could feel her stomach drop. She wanted to know what happened, but at the same time, she wasn't sure whether or not she could take it.

"-more Death Eaters arrived- and then Snape- and Snape did it."

Somewhere in the darkness, a phoenix was singing. The bird sounded neither like a cry nor a call, but a tone that seemed to strum all the right notes that made Brooke's insides unbearable. If there was a spell to rob her of her nerves and leave her a thoughtless body, now would be the best time to do it.

"It's my fault," said Professor McGonagall suddenly. "I sent for Snape to come and help us! If I hadn't alerted him, he would have never joined forces with the Death Eaters."

"It's not your fault, Minerva," said Lupin firmly. "We all wanted more help and glad to think Snape was on his way."

"So when he got there, he joined the Death Eaters?" asked Harry.

"I'm not sure," said McGonagall. "Remus, Bill, and Nymphadora joined me in patrolling the school once Dumbledore told us he would be gone for a few hours. I still don't know how they got in."

"I do," said Harry. "They got in through the Room of Requirement."

Ron, Hermione, Luna and Ginny looked devastated. It tore at Brooke, knowing herself to be the blame for the escape more than them.

"I messed up, Harry," said Ron bleakly. "Malfoy and them must have gotten past us when the corridor went pitch black. He must have had his Hand of Glory with him."

"But I let Snape get passed us," Hermione spoke up, her voice straining to tears; ashamed, "Professor Flitwick came running down about the Death Eaters and when he ran into Snape's office, Snape told us to check on him because he'd collapsed. I didn't realize we just let him through!"

"If you would have tried to stop Snape, he would have killed you on the spot," said Lupin. "It's a good thing that he spared you two."

None of them needed to feel guilty.

It was nipping her from the inside out; she had done everything intentionally.

"If it's anyone's fault," said Brooke, interrupting Lupin comforting Hermione. "It's mine."

"Just because it's…you know, doesn't mean it's your fault," said Ron quietly.

"Yes, it is," she said strongly. "I saw them- the Death Eaters, outside of the Room of Requirement and I didn't stop them."

"How could you have? Me, Ginny and Neville couldn't see-"

"No! You don't understand. I got a hold of Dr- that Hand of Glory and saw them standing there," she said to the sheets of her cot, not wishing to meet their eyes. "I saw all of them and all I did was make Tonks abandon her post, so they could get through to the Astronomy Tower."

Brooke gulped to force her throat to stay still.

"That's just bad luck," said Tonks.

"I did it intentionally!" said Brooke, frustrated at herself and them for not even accepting her confession. "I let them go through on purpose. I even stopped Bill's curse on Bellatrix and now she's gotten away and he's been attacked by a werewolf that was aiming for me. Half of this mess, you can't deny was my fault."

No one tried to counter her.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she shook her head.

He didn't say anything and Brooke wouldn't be surprised if he never forgave her.

A little while later, Harry and McGonagall left to Dumbledore's office and Hermione, Brooke, Ron, Ginny and Luna convinced Madam Pomfrey to let them sleep in their own dormitories for the night. She was mostly hesitant for Brooke, whose injuries were third worse after Bill and Neville's.

However, after a good second potion and bandages snug over her sides and head, she was free to go.

The four said goodbye to Luna once they reached the Ravenclaw common room entrance. They listened to the quiet in the castle until they stood in front of the Fat Lady's portrait.

Ginny had gone to bed and the rest should have followed after quite an evening. Instead, they sat on the couches near the dying fireplace.

Brooke curled her legs up and rested her head on the back of the couch. It was nearly two in the morning and physically, she was tired, but she didn't feel like sleeping.

"Brooke?" asked Hermione after a long pause. "What happened then? When it was dark in the corridor?"

She lifted her head up, weighing twice as normal. Taking a long silent breath, Brooke squinted at the dim fire.

"Well," she began, trying to find a place to start. "I could only hear him and Bellatrix somewhere a few feet away from me. Then, I ended up on the floor and touched the Hand of Glory while he was still holding it. He said I should trust him."

She looked up to see them listening intently and then let her eyes drop to gaze at the patterns of the coffee table between them.

"He said…that he still loved me," she murmured. "And I believed him."

Brooke chuckled, making Hermione and Ron even more uneasy and alarmed.

"That's the funny part of it all. I actually believed him."

"People make mistakes, Brooke."

"Who? Are you talking about me or him? Because I know what I did was a mistake," said Brooke growing even more angry at the person who wasn't even in the castle to hear her, "but not him. He knew exactly what he was doing."

The dark tick of the clock in the back of the room carried the only noise.

"He knew I'd help him out if he said that," continued Brooke, more to herself than to Ron and Hermione.

She wasn't quite sure of herself anymore. With a clear head on her shoulders, there wasn't a single doubt that she would fight against the Death Eaters and Voldemort.

If she didn't, that would make her not only a traitor to her school, to her best friend and everyone in the Order, but what she did today made her the worst daughter.

She needed to make up for it somehow.

It was killing her to know that with all intentions set aside, the plain truth was that Brooke took part in the murder of one of the most powerful, most kind wizard in the magical world.

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**A/N: Sorry its not super long like the previous chapters, but I know I left it on a pretty big cliffhanger the last chapter. And those reviews, by the way, made me incredibly happy. Thank you guys for responding! Anyway, the next (potentially last) chapter is on its way and keep reading and reviewing. :)**


	19. Waking Up

_How can you see into my eyes like open doors?_  
_Leading you down into my core where I've become so numb_  
_Without a soul, my spirit sleeping somewhere cold_

_Frozen inside without your touch_  
_Without your love, darling_

_All this time, I can't believe I couldn't see_  
_Kept in the dark but you were there in front of me_

_Without thought, without voice, without a soul_  
_Don't let me die here_  
_There must be something more_

_Wake me up_

_Save me_

_Bring me to life_

**[Bring Me To Life by Evanescence]**

* * *

The few weeks left in the semester had blurred together from one night into the next. Classes had been limited to free time in order for the teachers to figure out the matter of the new headmaster, the many concerned parents, and improving the security.

The morning after the battle, students buzzed about what happened, chattering in the Great Hall, in classrooms, the corridors, the common room and bathrooms. And even though the four of them, along with the new constant presence of Ginny, could not avoid coming across these conversations and questions, they passed through the castle in their own separate world.

Aside from Neville and Luna, they created a closely knit group, however Brooke felt double encased upon noticing when they split into pairs.

Ginny's arm would be around Harry's, and Hermione and Ron would sit next to each other on the couch.

Brooke would be alone.

It might have been better if she let herself miss him.

But she didn't.

Brooke numbed up her senses, well avoiding joy, boredom, anger, sadness and all, however she didn't realize that the isolation would stick around no matter what. Wake up, eat, and sleep is all she felt like doing, and only because she had to do it.

"Brooke?"

"Mm," she raised her eyes off the Divination table. That became her favorite utterance lately.

"You alright? Seems like you're spacing out," said Anthony, setting his things down at the foot of his chair.

"Oh, I'm fine," she replied, moving only her lips and eyes. Although she hadn't even spoken to Anthony about things besides academics, the unfortunate event seemed to break the silence suddenly and almost without notice.

"He's an idiot," he said after a long pause.

Brooke stared and cracked her head to the crooked floorboard. "I know."

"And that doesn't make you one," he continued.

She opened her mouth, forming the same phrase, but her lips pursed and she narrowed her eyes.

"It's true."

"You don't know the whole story," she mumbled to the ground.

"So you helped them. It's understandable- Luna told me," he explained to her mildly affronted surprise. "But it's reasonable-"

"There is nothing reasonable about me betraying everyone who's cared about me to help someone who couldn't care less," she snapped at him.

It shut him up for a couple seconds, but he leaned forward on the table once again.

"I just don't want you to beat yourself up because _you_ cared about someone."

The day of the funeral, people were pouring into the castle grounds, so much that the mob became a blurry black mass sitting before a single glimmering white marble tomb. Brooke, Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron sat on the very edge of one of the more middle rows.

Brooke felt odd, separated once again as she sat between Hermione and Ginny, not because she was the only one between the three that was not crying, but because of the way they were angled. Yet again, the couples surrounded her.

Hermione clutched onto Ron's arm and Harry and Ginny had their hands still intertwined. It didn't make her angry. She was quite content that her best friends were happy.

The service began after the crowd slowly grew silent from the front to the back. Seeing Dumbledore's lifeless body didn't break her heart as much as watching Hagrid having to carry it to the tomb. He cried loudly and openly. She appreciated that; the purest form of a human being.

Brooke, on the other hand, felt frozen. In every inch, she was frozen. She had to be, since the heat in her eyes and breath seemed to shoot up another thirty degrees. She didn't even bother to swipe the fallen teardrop now running roughly, slowly down her sun beaten cheek.

It was getting hot. Her breathing deepened, but much unlike that of a deep sleep. On the contrary, she used most of her concentration to restrain the human being from bursting out of her. The funeral service was triggering a second wave of terror as it did the night she sat curled on the common room, telling Ron, Hermione and herself exactly what had happened. Only now, it seemed even more real.

The past couple weeks had been dreams, a deep sleep to distance herself, but now the millions of people that gathered for Dumbledore woke her up. There were so many of them. Almost each one with a wet eye and from each tear fallen onto their lap, Brooke took the blame for at least one of them.

One million tears.

With the back of her hand, she caught the tear at the last second before it fell to her lap.

But knowingly, she bowed her head slightly, to make them fall faster because there was no way of stopping them now. Brooke cried silently and openly.

After the service, she found herself at the edges of the lake. It hadn't been a far walk, since the tomb was within sight.

The last time she'd been there, the lake had turned into a thrashing ocean. Her eyes swiped over the entire scenery. Like always, the trees gently waved at her, occasionally sending a bird or two out from the forest's insides.

She took her usual seat among the cream colored sand, near the small couple of flat rocks, near the two branches' entrance.

Closing her eyes in an attempt to bat away the memory failed. She had been sitting in this exact spot two years ago and regrettably, her lips reminded her of what his felt like.

Soft. Miles from what she expected out of someone with a hard face, with a cruel personality and rigid arrogance. Who was he anyway?

"Brooke?" someone said.

Still focused on him, she turned so quickly her neck might have snapped.

"Oh, hey," she said, recoiling back to her lake.

The three of them sat next to her, almost mirrors of each other. They took in the lake and the forest, something that people at Hogwarts rarely ever do when things like this happen; when things are shook up into turmoil.

The lake made Brooke feel more nostalgic than the actual service.

It seemed to hold more than the single white tomb. Less answers than the man in the tomb could have provided them, but it still seemed to hold more.

"I'm not coming back her next year," said Harry with his eyes set on the forest.

"I knew you'd say that," said Hermione sadly. "But what will you do?"

"I'm going back to the Dursleys' once more because Dumbledore wanted me to," said Harry. "But then, I'll be gone for good. I've to track down the rest of the Horcruxes."

The way they all spoke, they faced the lake.

"I guess that's one good thing that came out of all this mess," said Brooke. "There's one less you have to go after."

Harry's eyes dropped to the sand and he reached into his pocket. Tangled in his fingers was a golden chain. "It's a fake," he said, tossing her Slytherin's locket.

It was much lighter. It was a replica. Fake.

"R.A.B.?" she asked, scanning the note inside it.

Harry shrugged. "Dunno."

The locket winked at her in the light. One more thing to drop onto her. No, she really had to stop blaming herself. How in the world was the Horcrux being a fake have anything to do with her? It didn't.

But, Brooke still thought, feeling better with a more reasonable head, however feeling worse with a depressing thought. Nothing came out of this. It was simply a mess.

"We're going with you," said Ron suddenly.

"What?"

"To wherever you're going. We're coming along."

"No, you're not," Harry replied bleakly.

"You said we could have left at any point because you knew it would be dangerous," said Hermione quietly. "Well, we're still here, aren't we?"

"This is different," he said without looking at them.

"Of course it's different," said Brooke, weaving her fingers through the chain of the locket. "This time its not just about surviving, is it? You have to do something- to go after and maybe fight instead of defend. You need us."

Harry looked at the lake in thought.

"You know you can't get rid of us," chuckled Ron.

Harry's doubt of them only pushed her motivation. If there was one thing she would do with her time, it wasn't sitting around Hogwarts while cowards like the Malfoys were slithering about, breaking people from the inside out.

Each time a mere reference to Draco Malfoy was mentioned, Brooke no longer felt the isolating drape burden her down, but it had been replaced with a swooping, sickening disgust and anger. Everything wrong seemed to trace back to him.

And Brooke wouldn't settle until she had him dangling from her claws. It shouldn't be her fault because it wasn't. Draco Malfoy had ruined everything and she couldn't take it anymore.

The three friends sat next to each other, staring at the lake for one last time.

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**A/N: & There is the last chapter of the sixth book. :) Short, I know, and I have to apologize. But please please please review! Tell me any comments about the chapter itself, or even any sort of response to the story as a whole.**

**The reviews, besides me loving to read them all and hear your thoughts, are also quite crucial for this chapter because I'm going to begin writing up the storyline for the last story of the series. It would mean LOADS if you reviewed. :)**

**Thanks again, especially those who've been reading since the first of the series & of course to those who happen to stumble on the story and have read, reviewed, or added. :)**

**Can't say exactly when I will be starting up again with posts, but it may be a while (perhaps a bit more than a month) seeing as June is a huge month for me.**

**I don't know what else to say, except for REVIEW and THANKS!  
**


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